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SHELDON & COMPANY. 



THE 



NAPOLEON DYNASTY 



A HISTOET 



OF THE 



BONAPARTE FAMILY, 



BROUGHT DOWN TO THE PRESENT TIME. 



BY THE BEEKELEY MEK 

(C. EDWARDS LESTER.) 



WITH TWENTY-THREE AUTHENTIC PORTRAITS. 



/-W 



NEW YORK: 

^HELDON & COMPANY, 



No. 677 BROADWAY. 
1873. 



Entered, according to Act of Congress, A D. 1873, by 

SHELDON & CO., 

In the Oflace of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. 



PUBLISHERS' ADVERTISEMENT. 



It has been often remarked in Europe, that if an impartial 
History of Napoleon and his Times should ever be written, it 
would come from America. The object of this publication is 
to furnish such a work. In its preparation, brilliant and expe- 
rienced pens have been engaged ; and we have spared no ex- 
pense in making the appearance of the book worthy rf the 
splendor of the subject. 

From the public Archives of our own and Foreign States, 
and from members of the Bonaparte Family on both sides of 
the Atlantic, valuable authentic materials have been obtained, 
which are here for the first time brought to light; Especial 
care has been bestowed on the portraits, all of which have been 
taken from original sources, and some of which have never 
before been engraved. 

This new edition of the Napoleon Dynasty, brought down to 
the present time, is, therefore, submitted to the candid criticism 
of the public, as the only complete work on the subject which 
has ever been published. 

The great sale which this book has heretofore had, having 
sold in all up to this time about sixty thousand copies, proves 
that it has taken its deserved place as a standard work on a very 
important subject. 

New York, Januar}', 1873. 



PREFACE TO THE EDITION OF 1873. 



Just as the coup d'etat of December, 1851, had chilled the 
blood of one class of mankind, and breathed through the hearts 
of millions of others the inspiration of fresh hope — when to the 
one class the Euler of France had emerged from the blood of 
usurpation to despotic power, and curses from all the reactionists 
and destructionists of the world had been hurled at his head — 
when France was yibrating, as she often had, between the bold 
act of one man to save, or the anarchy of a Nation to destroy, and 
the Statesmen of Europe were waiting to see, not what they would 
do with France, but what France would do with them — at 
that period, this work was written. Genial and active as were 
our American sympathies with the French people, the alleged 
usurpation of Louis Napoleon brought an all but universal 
ignominy upon his name. Few Americans were found "so 
poor as to do him reverence." 

From a close study of the man and the chief members of the 
Bonaparte family, and such a familiarity with the affairs of 
France and Europe as a long residence there could give, the 
writer looked through somewhat different eyes upon that 
strange panorama so unexpectedly opened upon the startled 
attention of the Nations. 

With a proper regard for an impartial hearing by his coun- 
trymen, the author chose to place his name under the protect- 
ing shield of tlie Berheley Men. 

The authorship is now avowed : and the record of the dead 
Emperor is continued by the same hand. I was his historian, 
not his eulogist while he was living, and before he became 
Emperor. And once more, when the star of the Napoleon 
Dynasty has not only gone into another deep eclipse, but Nar 



iY PREFACE. 

poleon's throne has vanished into thin air, as his body has to 
ashes, in this extreme moment of his fate, I take the same his- 
toric pen to end his history by his tomb at Chiselhurst, that I 
held when I began his record in 1851. 

Critics did not allege, I believe, that I had written a partial, 
or flattering life of any member of the Bonaparte family. They 
had the better chance to judge of the case since the authorship 
was unknown. Even the reviewers of England and France 
conceded to the work candor and impartiality. And while 
Louis Napoleon himself must have found in the book much 
that a more partial pen might have erased, he addressed the fol- 
lowing letter to the author, which is now for the first time 
made public : 

HOUSE 

OF THE 

PRINCE PRESIDENT PARIS, llth September, 1851. 

OP THE 

REPUBLIC. 



LiBKARiEs, Sciences, 
Fine Akts, Literature. 

Monsieur — I felt deeply interested on receiving, and calling 
the attention of the President of the Republic, to the splendid 
volume which you have done him the courtesy to send, and he 
has charged me to address to you his thanks. 

The work — The Napoleon- Dynasty— is by no means a 
simple array of biographical documents ; it is a history of a 
great family, and of a great name, written with as much impar- 
tiality as nobleness. 

The Prince, whose life and ideas you have so well unfolded, 
did not expect to be judged throughout with so much equity ; 
and the thought is sweet to him that this justice has come from 
a People which knows better than all others the duties which 
are imposed by love of Country, and respect for Liberty. 

I am happy, Monsieur, to assure you of his sentiments, which 
are those of gratitude and sympathy. 

Eeceive, I pray you, the assurance of my distinguished con- 
sideration. J. Le Terre Deumier. 

Monsieur C. Edwards Lester, New York. 



CONTENTS. 



BOOK I. 
Origin of the Bokapartes— Lives of Carlo, Letitia, and pages 



CARDmAL Fesch, 



1-47 



BOOK II. 



The Emperor Napoleon, 



49-219 



The Empress Josephine, 



BOOK m. 



BOOK IV. 



The Empress Maria Louisa, . 

BOOK V. 
Joseph Bonaparte — King of Naples and Spain, 



221-314 



315-328 



S29-395 



BOOK VI. 
LuciEN Bonaparte— Prince op Canino, 



897-415 



BOOK VII. 
Louis Bonaparte — King of Holland, 
Queen Hortense, 

BOOK VIII. 
Jerome Bonaparte — King op Westphalia, 
Napoleon's Sisters— Eliza, 

Pauline, .... 

Caroline, .... 

Eugene Beauharnais, 

Napoleon Francis Joseph — Duke of Reichstadt, 



417-431 
432-444 



445-466 
467-470 
471-477 

478-483 
483-489 
490^92 



BOOK IX. 
Joachim Murat — King op Naples, 



493-532 



BOOK X. 
Louis Napoleon — President of the French Republic and 

Emperor of France, ..... 533-636 



PORTRAITS 









PAGE 


Emperor Napoleok, . . . . ; Frontispiece. 


Kttstg of Rome, ..... 




Vignette. 


Caklo, .... 






. 15 


Letitia, .... 






. 20 


Cardinal Fesch, 






.33 


The First CoNSUii, 






. 116 


Josephine, 






. 223 


Maria Louisa, . 






. 317 


Joseph Bonaparte, 






. 331 


LuciEN Bonaparte, . . • . 






. 399 


^Louis Bonaparte, 






. 419 


HoRTENSE— Queen of Holland, 






- . 432 


Jerome Bonaparte, . 






. 447 


Elizabeth Patterson, 






. 451 


Jerome Napoleon Bonaparte, 






. 457 


Jerome Napoleon Bonaparte (U.S.A.), 






. 460 


Eliza— Grand Duchess of Tuscany, 






. 467 


Pauline— Princess Borghese, 






. 471 


Caroline— Queen of Naples, 


^ 




. 478 


Eugene Beauharnais, 






. 483 


Joachim Murat, 






. 495 


Louis Napoleon, . . . 






. 533 


Eugenie, . . . 






. 625 



BOOK I. 

THE ORIGIN OF 

THE BONAPARTE FAMILY. 



ORIGIN OF THE BONAPARTE FAMILY. 

I. 

A Bonaparte again rules France. The results of tlie 
late Revolution, have invested the character and history 
of Napoleon with a new and deeper interest. 

Twice the Bourbons have gone down, and left a Republic 
in France, — and twice that Republic has given way to the 
Napoleon Dynasty. The struggle may not yet be over, but 
there are more Bonapartes than Bourbons living to main- 
tain it. 

Something greater than stars watched over the birth of 
Napoleon, and a power higher than fortune guides the desti- 
nies of the Bonaparte Family. No one's history has been 
written by so many different hands, no one's history read by 
so many eyes, as the Corsican Soldier's. Not a generation 
has passed away since he died, and his name and his history, 
are familiarly known to more men to-day, than Alexander's 
or Caesar's. 

II. 

No man has ever put forth such influence on human for- 
tunes. Men and nations bent before him, as willows bend 
when the storm sweeps by. It exhausted and impoverished 
all Europe to crush him. They chained the Eagle to the 
bald cliff of a volcanic rock of the ocean, among the clouds — • 



10 THE OBJECT OF THIS HISTOET. 

and six years England kept a fleet to watch him, and see 
him chafe and die ; and then they opened his body and took 
out his vitals, and were sure he was dead — and then they 
excavated a grave in the rock, and welded his coffin in by 
strong bars of iron, and then they watched the place for 
twenty years. 

And when at last Europe was no longer afraid of the 
dead Eagle's ashes, she let France take them back to the 
banks of the Seine. They had stolen the young Eagle from 
the parent nest, and carried him away among strangers, 
where he pined, sickened, and died. Europe then thought 
she could breathe free again. 

III. 

But a Bonaparte still rules France. There is something 
in all this worthy of a more careful survey than history has 
yet given. — We have long wondered there was no complete 
history of the Bonaparte Family. We at last resolved to 
attempt one ourselves. So much for the occasion of this 
book — 

Its object is to furnish in a single volume, authentic 
biographies of the principal members of the Bonaparte 
Family. To gather and arrange from many volumes into 
one, valuable, rare and interesting materials now floating 
on the turbid ocean of Modern History — beyond the reach 
of all but the adventurous, the curious,, or the learned. 

Those whose studies have not led them along the same 
track, will discover in these biographies, how unfounded is 
the opinion so commonly entertained, that Napoleon was 
the only extraordinary member of his family. They were 
all so gifted by nature, they could have achieved emi- 
nence on any road of life ; and their individual energies 
and accomplishments, raised barriers, and reflected lustre on 



THE ROMAN POWER. li 

Napoleon's throne. Each one's history is worthy of the 
careful pen of the historian, while the whole family const! 
tute the most brilliant and attractive group of contemporary 
kinsmen we have any knowledge of. We have endeavored 
to draw each portrait with distinctness and individuality ; 
and trace the development of each one's character at a 
separate and peculiar growth without losing sight of the 
dependence of each branch on the gigantic trunk which 
sustained them all. 

IV. 

It should not be forgotten that the Bonaparte Family 
sprang from Italian soil. That wonderful peninsula has 
been the fruitful source of genius, and Empire, for nearly 
thirty centuries. 

Whatever light the world has had, sprang from the 
Hebrews, the Greeks, or the Italians. The last represent 
them all. And thus we owe to them not our New World 
only but all we are and all we hope to be. Italy no longer 
governs the world by arms, but she still asserts her dominion 
of ideas. The intellect and the institutions of modern 
times have been moulded by the genius of Italy. 

Long before the shores of the Tiber were disturbed by 
the hum of the City of Romulus, the Phoenicians made 
Etruria the gem of Europe and the garden of Italy. The 
industrious excavations of recent years have disentombed 
the wondrous fruits of their Ante-Roman civilization. 

Then rose the structure of Roman power slow and sturdy 
in its growth — ^irresistible in its progress and lasting in ita 
existence. — first under the kings, during which period 
the State was striking its roots down into the soil ; and 
nurturing the Herculean power which afterwards enfolded 
and held the world. 



12 THE SUrREMACY OF ITALY. 

When the rude energy of early Roman valor had been 
somewhat tamed by culture, and the multitude would no 
longer bow to a single will, the Commonwealth took the 
place of the Monarchy. Conquest extended the domains of 
the State ; Commerce spread its white wings over the Medi- 
terranean ; Greece fell into the arms of Rome with her 
priceless dower of immortal learning ; Carthage became a 
ruin and left Rome without a Rival^and. at last when her 
proportions had become too colossal for the simplicity of a 
Republic, she assumed the Imperial form. 

V. 

At the time of the Saviour, Rome had absorbed the world. 
It was the focal point of learning — it was the centre of in- 
fluence for all civilized men. In the Augustan age, Rome 
summed up all there was of human progress the race had 
made since Adam. She needed nothing but the new light 
just breaking over Bethlehem, and this was soon to radiate 
her — The altars of the Pantheon, then smoking to the di- 
vinities of mythology, were to send up their incense to the 
Founder of a New Religion — the Romulus of a kingdom 
whose emblem dove of Peace has unfolded its wings over 
empires where Cesar's eagles never flew. 

This the new element of power that was to put forth so 
vast an influence on the fate of men — and slowly work the 
dissolution of the Roman Empire — thus emancipating a hun- 
dred nations — was early seized hold of by the grasping hand 
of Rome, and as the crumbling Castle of the Cesars fell, 
there emerged from the smoking ruin the dim, fearful form 
of the Hierarchy ; a Spiritual Empire more formidable, 
more universal, more vast, than that of Aur clean — for it 
controlled the consciences as well as the bodies of men, and 
the fortunes of Kingdoms. Julius Cesar and all the Cesarg 



WHAT ITALr HAS DOXE FOR THE WORLD. 13 

were dead — but the ferocity of the Northern Barbarians 
which the Roman Legions could neither resist nor tame, was 
subdued by the Cross. Europe has for ages attempted to 
shake off this terrible power — and Revolution has followed 
Revolution — and Governments and Emperors and Chieftains 
have risen and been overthrown — but the power of the 
Roman Hierarchy is still unbroken — Rome still asserts her 
empire over the world. Every power that has ever grap- 
pled with her has been overthrown — from Rienzi to Napo- 
leon. The Popes are driven away by Barbarians — exiled 
to Avignon — carried captive to Paris — fly to Gaeta — But 
they always go back to Rome ! — Close by and apparently as 
eternal as the tomb of St. Peter, or the Arch of Titus — a 
Pope still sits. 

VI. 

Then came the Justinian Code — after the temporal power 
of Rome Avas broken, and the barbarian had made a manger 
for his steed in the Golden House of Nero. The spear 
had fallen from the hands of the legions — but Roman genius 
still made laws for the world. Then came the Republics 
with the institution of the modern system of States ; the 
new and humane reign of Commerce with its great dis- 
coveries — the Revival of Letters and the glorious triumphs 
of the Arts which adorn and bless the world. The Medici 
gave us Commerce — Columbus and Yespucius, a new world — 
Galileo and Vico, Yolta and Galvani, Science — Machiavelli, 
the Philosophy of Government — Dante and Petrarch, Tasso 
and Alfieri, Poetry — Justinian, Laws — Genoa, Amalfi, Pisa, 
Florence and Venice, Republican Institutions — Michael An- 
gelo, Raphael, Titian, and Da Yinci, Arts — So, too, when 
Europe required regeneration, Italy — that "Niobe of Na- 
tions" — still asserted her prerogative and sent forth one of 
ber own children, to open a new age. 



14 THE ISLAXD OF CORSICA. 

And so for 2500 years tlie fountain of Empire has been 
welling up from the seven hills. There was the semblance 
of truth in the solemn epithet which we usually ascribe 
to the vanity of its citizens — Rome was, and is still the 
Eternal City. 

YII. 

From the castle-crowned hills above the terraced gardens 
of Genoa, the purple summits of Corsica can be seen, on a 
clear Italian morning, rising out of the sea. Solitary, grand 
and beautiful, it seems a fitting birth-place for one who was 
to overshadow the world, and die at last like a wounded 
eagle on another lone Island of the Ocean. 

Geographically, and ethnologically, Corsica belongs to 
Italy. It was probably first peopled from its neighboring 
shores, and the inhabitants still speak a dialect so much like 
the Tuscan, they can be readily understood in every part of 
Italy. 

YIII. 

The earliest mention of Corsica is found in Herodotus. 
The Romans invaded the Island and wrested it from the 
Carthagenians in the first Punic War. Once subjected to 
Rome, it remained her province during the Commonwealth 
and under the Caesars, till it yielded, from its exposed situa- 
tion to the first shock of the Barbarians in the beginning 
of the Fifth Century of the Christian era. It subsequently 
passed under the dominion of the Byzantine Emperors, it 
became the prey of the Goths, and it fell before the irre- 
sistible onset of the followers of the Arabian Prophet, 
[A. D. 850.] It yielded afterwards to Pisa, then the powerful 
rival of Genoa and Venice, and finally became a dependency 
of tlie Ligurian Republic, [A. D. 1284], which resumed its 
ancient independence after the Fall of the Roman Empire- 
repelled all the assaults of the Barbarians — went gloriouslv 




CARLO BONAPARTE. 



CORSICA CEDED TO FRANCE. ^ 15 

through the Crusades — became the most formidable maritime 
power in Europe — sent out the Discoverer of a New World 
—preserved Republican Institutions 1400 years, and was be- 
trayed at last by the perfidy of an English Commander. 

IX. 

Corsica had long excited the ambition of the French 
Monarchs. It was invaded in 1T67, and two years later, by 
cession from the Genoese, it passed reluctantly under the 
dominion of France. The lover of historic romance and 
chivalric adventure, will read with delight the stirring story 
of the noble struggles of the patriot Paoli, to rescue his 
native Island from the French invaders. 

Corsica is nearly the size of Connecticut. Thrown up by 
some pre-Adamic convulsion, and bathed by the Mediterra- 
nean ; refreshed by the cool breezes of the Alps and Appe- 
nines, and warmed by a southern sun ; with mountain-peahs 
(8-9000 feet) clothed in eternal snows, and valleys blushing 
in endless summer, it is one of the wildest fairy-spots in the 
world. 

X. 
CARLO BONAPARTE, 

Born at Ajaccio, March 29th., 1746=-died at Montpelier, 1785. 

The family of Carlo Bonaparte held a high rank m 
Corsica. They had been long settled in Tuscany, where 
they became distinguished for the parts they took with the 
Ghibelines in their ferocious feuds with the Guelphs, which 
so long desolated Italy. On the dispersion of the family one 
of the members settled in Corsica, and from him Napoleon 
was directly descended. It is also satisfactorily established 
that the Tuscan Bonapartes had emigrated from Rome at an 
early period ; and no physiognomist can look carefully on 



16 CARLO BONAPARTE. 

Napoleon's face without recognizing tlie Patrician Koman 
model — by which we mean the blending of the Roman with 
the Greek. The further the scholar here extends his re- 
searches, the more he will be inclined to concede an original 
Greek origin to the Bonaparte Family. Traces are not 
wanting of their political eminence in the Middle Ages. 
They were Senators in the Republics of Florence, Sarzana, 
Bologna, and Treviso, and Prelates at the Court of the 
Vatican. They had become allied by marriage with the 
princely families of the Medici, Orsini, and Lomellini. 

XI. 

Some of the Bonapartes also became distinguished for 
their contributions to learning at the Period of the Revival 
of Letters. In the Bihliotheque du Roi the Parisians still 
boast of possessing the original MS. of a dramatic work 
by Piccolo Bonaparte — who is spoken of by Italian Au- 
thorities as one of the literary stars of the Age of the 
Medici. Another member of the family founded, it is said, 
the Chair of Jurisprudence in the University of Pisa, and 
when Napoleon himself entered Bologna — that ancient seat 
of learning in 1796, the Senate sent him their " Golden 
Book," in which the names and arms of his family were in- 
scribed. The armorial bearings of some of his ancestors, 
sculptured in marble are still found on several of the* Flo- 
rentine buildings. When Napoleon had become master of 
the Peninsula, and was passing through Tuscany, he haltei 
for a few hours with his staff, at the dwelling of Gregoric 
Bonaparte, the last of his race in Italy. The aged Canoi 
of San Miniato, a rich and venerable man, entertained the 
victorious Cortege with the good cheer, which an Italian 
monk knows so well how to provide. The next day 
Napoleon sent him the Cross of St. Stephen. Soon after, 



YOUTH AND MARRIAGE OF CARLO. 17 

the good Abb© died and left his fortune to Napoleon who 
presented it to one of the charities of Tuscany. 

XIT. 

The grandfather of Carlo Bonaparte had three Sons- 
Joseph, Napoleon and Lucien. The only son of the first 
was Carlo — the only child of the second was a daughter — • 
the third was a priest, who died in 1791, Archdeacon of 
Ajaccio. Carlo thus became the only representative of his 
family in Corsica. He was educated at Pisa and Rome, and 
received the degree of Doctor of Laws, He returned home 
with the graces of youth and eloquence ; he was tall, hand- 
some, learned and accomplished ; and at the early age of 
nineteen he won the heart of Letitia Ramolini, the descend- 
ant of a noble Neapolitan family on the Island. She was 
distinguished for her eminent beauty, her great intelligence 
and her indomitable energy. When the war broke out 
between France and Corsica in 1768; he gave his services to 
Paoli, in a zealous defence of the independence of his 
country. The occupation of Ajaccio by the French troops 
drove the Bonaparte family to the centre of the Island, 
where Carlo, in following the fortunes of Paoli, held out 
till his patriot leader was obliged to fly. Carlo accom- 
panied him to Porto Yecchio, and his youthful enthusiasm 
tempted him for a moment to embark with him. 

XIII. 

But Corsica yielded to the French king, and was at once 
ncorporated into the domain of Louis. The Magistracy 
of the Island was vested in the Provincial States, and the 
lionor of the twelve Nobles was confirmed. The nobility 
of Carlo's family and his own position and popularity, gave 
him a prominent place in the Government. He was appointed 



18 CARLO BONAPARTE. 

Assessor to the tribunal of Ajaccio ai d swayed great in 
fluence in the Councils of the Island. In 1779, he was ap- 
pointed by his colleagues deputy for the Nobles, at Paris. 
He took Joseph and Napoleon, his two sons, with him. He 
left Joseph, the elder, at the School of Autun — and placed 
Napoleon in the Military Academy at Brienne— having 
obtained the appointment through the favor of his friend, 
the Count Marboeuf, the Governor of Corsica. 

XIV. 

It should have been said that while Carlo was passing 
through Florence on his way to Paris, he received from the 
Grand Duke Leopold a letter to his sister Marie Antoinette, 
queen of France, and he became a guest at the palace of 
Yerseilles, from whose gilded halls poor Marie herself was 
afterwards to fly by night in terror from the mob, and 
where, had Carlo lived a few years longer, he would have 
been the guest of his son, the Emperor. 

In the year 1785, [at the early age of 38, and the father 
of a race of kings]. Carlo died at Montpelier in France, 
whither he had resorted for medical aid. But his disease, 
[a cancer in the stomach, often hereditary in families and 
which was to prove fatal to Napoleon himself], baffled the 
skill of his physicians. 

XV. 

Napoleon at St. Helena gave the following account of hia 
father's death — " I was quietly pursuing my studies at 
Brienne when my father arrived at Montpelier, to struggle 
with the violence of a painful agony. He died, and I had 
not the consolation to close his eyes." — The mother of Ju- 
not's wife, a gentle and high-bred woman and a companion in 
girlhood of Letitia Ramolini, offered the hospitality of her 



19 

house to the dying man, and lie breathed his last — not at 
a strange inn — but under the kind roof of a countrywoman, 
ministered to in his last illness by the filial attentions of his 
eldest son, and the consolations of the brother of his wife, 
[afterwards Cardinal Fesch.] He recommended to her ear- 
nestly his son Napoleon, who had just left Brienne for the 
Military School at Paris. So faithfully did she fulfill the 
bequest that years afterwards. Napoleon offered and pressed 
upon her his hand in marriage, notwithstanding the dispar- 
ity of their ages. 

After Napoleon had became First Consul, the City of 
Montpelier asked his permission to erect a Monument to his 
father. With many thanks he declined the request — " Let 
us not disturb," said he, " the repose of the dead. Let their 
ashes remain in peace. Had I lost my father yesterday, it 
would be proper and natural to pay his memory some token 
of respect consistent with my present position ; but it is 
nearly twenty years since his death, and it is a matter in 
which the public can now take no concern." 

Louis Bonaparte, however, at a later period, without the 
knowledge of his brother, removed the ashes of his father 
to St. Leu, on his own estate near Paris, and over them 
erected a monument. 

XVI. 

His tomb will in all time to come be worthy of resort as 
me of the remarkable places of Europe. If the curious 
traveler stops a day to look into the sepulchre where Rudolf 
de Hapsburg mouldered to ashes, why should he not halt an 
hour to contemplate the tomb of the Father of the Napoleon 
Dynasty ? 



XVII. 

LETITIA RAMOLINI, 

Born at Ajaccio, 24t;h August, 1750— died at Eome, February 2d., 1836. 

The motlier of Napoleon, was worthy of the honor 
fortune assigned her, of giving birth to a Dynasty of the 
People. The sceptres of Europe were held by the degene- 
rate descendants of the military Chieftains of the Middle 
Ages. They were characterized by the tyranny of their 
ancestors without their heroism. The people had got far 
beyond them, and they called for a Dynasty of progress. 
The effete monarchies of a past age they overwhelmed in 
the Red Sea of Revolution, and Napoleon's Empire was 
established. 

XVIII. 

Letitia Ramolini, the fairest and most brilliant maiden of 
Corsica, was of an ancient Italian family. The Ramolinis 
are descended from the Counts of Colalto. The first, who 
settled at Ajaccio, married the daughter of the Doge of 
Genoa, and received concessions and distinguished honors 
from that Republic. Letitia's biography should begin 
with a portraiture of her character sketched by the bold 
hand of her son. Says Napoleon : — " She had the head 
of a man on the shoulders of a woman. Left without 
a guide or protector, she was obliged to assume the 
management of affairs — but the burden did not overcome 
her. She administered everything with a degree of sagacity 
not to be expected from her age or sex. Her tenderness 
was joined with severity : She punished, rewarded all alike ; 
the good, the bad, nothing escaped her. Losses, privations, 
fatigue had no effect upon her ; she endured all, braved all. 
Ah I what a woman I where look forjier equal ?" 




LETITIA BONAPARTE. 



JWiwrrrfrMTMf'-iri'iiTfliwmMBiaMB 



fSmL 



CHARACTER OF LETITIA. 21 

XIX. 

At the death of her husband [1785] away from home, 
Signer a Letitia who had only reached her 35th year, had 
already become the mother of thirteen children, of whom 
live sons and three daughters survived their father. The 
order of their birth was as follows : — 1. Joseph, born in 
1768 ; 2. Napoleon, in 1769 ; 3. Lucien, in 1775 ; 4. Eliza, 
in 1777 , 5. Louis, in 1778 ; 6. Pauline, in 1780 ; 7. Caroline, 
in 1782 ; 8. Jerome, in 1784. " Left a widow at an early 
age," (says Madame Junot, who was intimate with the family,) 
" in a country where the head of a family is everything, the 
young mother found it necessary to call up all the energy of 
her character." She was gifted with that delicacy of per- 
ception which distinguishes the Corsicans ; " but in her con- 
versation," says the Dutchess d'Abrantes, who knew her 
intimately, " she was habitually candid. Her soul beamed 
in her looks, and it was a soul full of the loftiest sentiments. 
Her haughtiness, which was not ojffen-sive, became dignity, 
when elevated to her new situation. She was kind at heart, 
but of a cold exterior ; and at the period of which I speak, she 
was very scrupulous in exacting from every body, what she 
considered her due. She was a good mother. They treated 
her with every respect, and showed her assiduous attention. 
Lucien and Joseph were particularly attached to her." 



Before she had completed her sixteenth year, Letitia 
had become a wife. Her native country was now involved 
in civil discord and revolution. During the war for Cor- 
sican independence, she shared the dangers of her husband, v 
frequently accompanying him on horseback in his expedi- 
tions. When the French army entered Corsica, many of 
the principal families, and among them the Bonapartes, 



22 

were compelled to fly. They assembled at tlie foot of Montfl 
Rotondo, the highest mountain in the island. In their flight 
and during their sojourn among the mountains, they under- 
went many hardships. This was in the year 1769 ; and 
whenever he had occasion to speak of the events which pre- 
ceded his birth, Napoleon always dwelt with admiration on 
tlie courage and magnanimity with which his mother had 
borne losses and privations, and braved' fatigue and danger. 

xx;. 

Left a widow in the prime of life with but little property, 
Signora Letitia devoted herself to the care of her numerous 
family. Joseph, the eldest of her children, was nearly 
eighteen years of age, and seconded her efforts, with ardor 
and paternal affection. Napoleon was pursuing his military 
studies in France. When [1789] he had returned to Cor- 
sica the whole family were there assembled and resident with 
their mother ; Lucien and Eliza having also received their 
education in France. Louis, Jerome, Pauline and Caroline 
were still children. The Archdeacon Lucien, a brother of 
their father, although in infirm health, had become chief of 
the family, and watched over their welfare with paternal 
solicitude. The young Abbe Fesch, half-brother of Letitia, 
[and who had attended her husband in his last moments,] 
also resided with her family. 

The education of her four eldest children on the continent, 
and the deputation of her husband to Paris, had rendered 
the family entirely French in their character and political 
sentiments. Corsica hatl been declared, [30th of November, 
1789], an integral part of the Monarchy of France ; and 
that declaration, which had satisfied the islanders generally, 
had somewhat effaced from their minds the bitter souvenirs 
of the conquest. The revolutionary cause of the continent 



LETITIa's flight from CORSICA. 

^\ as embraced by tlie Bonapartes ; Josepli entered into pub^ 
lie life in the administration of the Department, while the 
younger brothers were preparing to take part in the ap- 
proaching contest. 

XXII. 

In 1792 public opinion in Corsica changed with regard to 
the French Revolution. Instigated by the venerable chief 
Paoli, the people declared against the sanguinary Republic. 
Ajaccio was the only town that had refused at the command 
of Paoli, to lower the tri-color. The chief had urged the 
Bonapartes,. the sons of his old companion in the war of 
independence, to join them in a fresh struggle against France. 
But their feelings, ambition and interest, lay in the opposite 
direction, and a separation took place. Paoli and his fol- 
lowers, in 1793, marched on Ajaccio ; the three Bonaparte 
brothers were absent at this critical time ; but the heroic 
Letitia, who had in earlier days followed her husband, in 
scenes of danger, was fully equal to the task of providing for 
the safety of herself and children. She dispatched mes- 
sengers to Joseph and Napoleon by sea and land ; and gave 
notice that they would soon arrive in the port with tlie 
representatives of the people. She iLus succeeded in pa- 
ralyzing the partisans of Paoli in the town. 

XXIII. 

While waiting for the French fleet, Signora Letitia was 
on the point of falling into the hands of her enemies. Roused 
suddenly at midnight, she found her chamber filled with 
armed mountaineers. She at first thought herself surprised 
by the partisans of Paoli ; but by the light of a fir-torch 
she saw the countenance of the chief, and felt reassured. It 
was Costa of Bastelica, the most devoted of the partisans 
of France. " Quick, make haste, Signora Letitia," he ex- 



24 NAPOLEONS MOTHER. 

claimed; "Paor's men are close on us. There is not a 
moment to lose ; but here I am, with my men. We will serve 
you, or perish." 

XXIV. 

Bastelica, one of the most populous villages of Corsica, 
lies at the foot of Monte d'Oro. Its inhabitants are re- 
nowned for their courage, and loyalty : one of the villagers 
had encountered a numerous body of the followers of Paoli 
descending on A.jaccio. He had learned that this troop had 
orders to take all the Bonaparte family, dead or alive. He 
returned to the village and roused their friends, who to the 
number of three hundred, armed, and preceded their ene- 
mies by a forced march to Ajaccio. 

Signora Letitia and her children rose from their beds, and 
in the centre of the column left the town in silence — the in- 
habitants being still asleep. They penetrated the deepest 
recesses of the mountains, and at day -break halted in a forest, 
in sight of the sea. Several times the fugitives heard from 
their encampment the troops of the enemy in the neighbor- 
ing valley, but they escaped the risk of an encounter. The 
same day, the flames rising in dense columns from the town, 
attracted attention. " That is your house now burning," 
said one of her friends, to Letitia. " Ah ! never mind," she 
replied ; "we will build it up again much better. Vive la 
France P' 

After two nights' march, the fugitives descried a -Frencli 
frigate. Letitia took leave of her brave defenders, and 
joined Joseph and Napoleon, who were on board the vessel 
at Calvi with the French deputies who had been sent on a 
mission to Corsica. 

XXV. 

The frigate turned her prow towards Marseilles where 
she landed the family of exiles, destitute of resources, but 



THE BONAPARTES IN EXILE. 2^ 

full of liealth and courage. All the fortitude of Letitia was 
called into exercise in these trying circumstances. She was 
reduced to poverty, and gratefully received the rations of 
bread distributed by the municipality to refugee patriots. 
Joseph and Napoleon contributed to the support of the fami- 
ly from their scanty allowances, in the military service. 

France was then bleeding under the wounds of a ferocious 
cifil war, and threatened with the dangers of foreign inva- 
sion. The principal cities of the Republic had revolted 
against the central authority of Paris which was ruled by 
the Jacobins, and Marseilles led the rebellion : But the re- 
duction of Lyons, and the vengeance inflicted on it, restored 
the supremacy of Paris. Many thousands of the inhabitants 
of Marseilles fled for protection to Toulon, which had called 
in the aid of the British and Spanish fleets to uphold the 
cause of the Bourbons. In this general flight, however, the 
Bonapartes did not participate — they belonged to the trium- 
phant party. This connection may in some measure be as- 
cribed to Lucien, who, though a youth, had distinguished 
himself as a Republican orator and partisan. In this early 
revolutionary career, he greatly promoted the fortunes of 
the family ; but Joseph, who continued to reside at Mar- 
seilles, with his mother, was too mild and unobtrusive to 
gain favor with the Jacobins, while Napoleon was yet but 
an unknown subaltern. 

The Abbe Fesch had accompanied his sister in her exile, 
and the family incurred the danger of harboring- a priest, 
then the most obnoxious of all men to popular wrath. The 
Abbe, however, prudently discarded his clerical robes, and 
sought a safer calling as a keeper of military stores in the 
army of General Montesquiow, who, in the autumn of 1793, 
overran the country of Savoy. 



26 



XXVI. 

The close of 1793 was marked by tlie capture of Toulon, 
the last of the revolted cities which had held out against the 
victorious banner of the Republic. That event revealed to 
the French nation the genius of Napoleon, and elevated him 
to the rank of General of Brigade. To his promotion the 
family of Signora Bonaparte owed better days. To be near 
him while he was stationed at Nice, the family had estab- 
lished themselves at the Chateau Salle, in the environs of 
Antilees, a few miles from Napoleon's head-quarters. He 
announced one day to Joseph and Lucien that he must set 
out for Paris the following morning, to be in a position to 
establish all the family advantageously. He however re^ 
considered the step. 

" They offer me," said Napoleon, " the place of Henriot. 
I am to give my answer this evening. Well, what say you 
to it ?" His brother hesitated a moment. " Eh ! eh !" re- 
joined the general ; " but it is worth the trouble of consid- 
ering. It is not a case to be the enthusiast upon ; it is not 
so easy to save one's head at Paris, as at St. Maximin. 
The young Robespierre is an honest fellow ; but his brother 
is not to be trifled with. He will be obeyed. Can I sup- 
port that man ? No, never ! I know how useful I should 
be to him in replacing his simpleton of a commandant at 
Paris ; but it is what I will not be. It is not yet time 
there is no place honorable for me at present but the army 
we must have patience — I shall command Paris hereafter. 
*' Such (says Lucien) were the words of Napoleon. He then 
expressed to us his indignation against the Reign of Terror 
of which he announced the approaching downfall. The 
young Robespierre solicited him in vain. A few weeks 
after the 9th Thermidor arrived tp^-d^liyer France, and 
justify the foresight of the general. '^ 



THE PROSCRIPTION OF THE BONAPARTES. 27 

XXVII. 

Notwithstanding his refusal to identify himself with Ro- 
bespierre, Napoleon, on whom the fortunes of the Bonaparte 
family depended, was involved in the downfall of that tyrant^ 
nd after the 9th of Thermidor, [27th of July, 1794,] he was 
rreeted as an adherent and partisan of Robespierre. He 
was restored to liberty in a few days. But his release was 
followed by the loss of his position in the army, and he 
went to Paris to solicit restoration and employment. His 
brothers shared in the reverses of the moment. Joseph re- 
tired to Genoa, and Lucien suffered incarceration in the 
prison of Aix for six weeks. Proscription was now the lot 
of the Bonapartes, in addition to the poverty from which 
they had partially emerged, but into which they were now 
again plunged. In this extremity of their fortunes, Joseph 
became the prop and support of the family. His marriage 
with the daughter of a wealthy merchant of Marseilles 
raised him to affluence, and gave him a position which 
enabled him to be of essential benefit to his mother, and the 
children still remaining with her. 

Signora Letitia continued to reside at Marseilles, with 
her family, till Napoleon's marriage, [1796], and appoint- 
ment to the command of the army of Italy. He at once 
assigned to his mother a portion of his income, by which 
she was raised from a state of comparative indigence to 
one of ease and comfort. Louis having entered the army, 
at the early age of seventeen, Jerome alone of all the 
sons remained with his mother, whose household was 
further reduced in 1797, by the marriage of her eldest 
daughter. 

About this period, Signora Letitia visited Corsica, and 
returning to Marseilles, finally removed with her family to 
Paris, in 1799, where she took up her residence with her son 



28 NAPOLEON S MOTHER. 

Josepli. The family of Lucien were also in Paris at this 
time, when Napoleon unexpectedly returned from Egypt. 

XXYIII. 

When the revolution of the 18th Brumaire, [9th November 
1799,] took place, Paris had been violently agitated foi 
Bome days. All were apprehensive of some decisive event 
without knowing the cause of their disquiet. The Dutches* 
d'Abrantes thus describes her visit to Signora Letitia, on 
whom she called after the affair was nearly over. " She 
appeared calm, though far from being easy ; for her extreme 
paleness and the convulsive movement she evinced whenever 
an unexpected noise met her ear, gave her features a ghastly 
air. In these moments she appeared to me truly like the 
mother of the Gracchi. She had three sons under the stroke 
of fate, one of whom would probably receive the blow, even 
if the others escaped. This she felt most forcibly. My 
mother and myself remained with her a part of that tanta- 
lizing day ; and only quitted her on the restoration of her 
confidence by Lucien's messengers, who were frequently sent 
to calm her disquiet. The danger to which the Bonaparte 
family was exposed might have been even imminent on the 
night of the 18th or 19th. If the Directory and the 
Councils had triumphed, all Bonaparte's brothers would have 
followed him to the scaffold ; and their friends and parti- 
sans would have been exiled, to say the least." 

XXIX. 

' After the revolution, which placed Napoleon at the hea 
of the consular government, Madame Letitia lived very 
retired in Paris — a manner of life which was equally in 
accordance with her own taste and the wishes of the First 
Consul, who was desirous that for a time his female relatives 



letitia's establishmext at paeis. 29 

should make no display. From the trials and misfortunes 
to which she had been exposed, Letitia who was naturally 
provident, had acquired habits of severe economy, and she 
always condemned superfluous expenditure on the part of 
her children. She entertained little fondness for her 
daughter-in-law, Josephine, preferring the society and fa- 
miliarity 0. the wives of Joseph and Lucien. She took part 
with Lucien in his quarrel with Napoleon, and greatly to 
the chagrin of the latter, followed the family of Lucien to 
Rome, in 1805. When upbraided by Napoleon with an 
undue partiality for Lucien, she answered, that an unfortu- 
nate son would always be the most dear to her ; which she 
proved afterwards by a memorable devotion to himself. 
Shortly after the creation of the Empire, however, she was 
induced to return to Paris, whither Napoleon invited her by 
tender solicitations, and offers of a splendid establishment. 
The Emperor settled upon her an annual income of a 
million francs [$200,000] assigned her a separate court, and 
gave her the title of Madame Mere, equivalent to that of 
Empress Mother. She took up her residence in the sump- 
tuously furnished mansion which had been occupied by 
Lucien, but she was far from maintaining the princely state 
and hospitality which had distinguished her banished son in 
his days of prosperity and power. She always adhered 
to the economical habits she had formed in adversity, 
not from an ignoble love of gold, but from a dread she 
could never discard, that poverty and want might again 
become the portion of the family, and that her savings 
might be wanted in the hour of calamity. It would be 
unjust not to add, that Madame Letitia took delight in 
offices of kindness. Often called on to solicit from her 
son favors for others, she was happy when her exertions 
were crowned with success. 



bO NAPOLEOX'S MOTHER. 

XXX. 

On tlie approach of tlie Allies toward Paris, in April, 
1814, Madame Mere accompanied the empress Maria Louisa 
and her court to Blois. Her wonted prudence and pre- 
science did not forsake her ; for on this occasion she took 
care to receive her arrears of allowance, [375.000 francs,] 
and dismissed the greater part of her attendants. 

By the treaty of Paris, in 1814, she was allowed to retain 
the title of " Madame Mere," and an annuity of 200.000 
francs, secured on the great book of France, was settled 
upon her. In August of the same year, attended by two 
maids of honor, and her chamberlain, she followed her son 
to Elba, and presided on the 15th, at a ball given in honor 
of his birth-day. After the return of Napoleon from Elba, 
Madame Letitia repaired to Eome, where she took up her 
residence for her remaining days. Immediately after the 
overthrow of Napoleon at Waterloo, she proffered him all 
she possessed in the world to assist him in restoring his 
fortunes. " And for mo," said Napoleon at St. Helena, 
'' she would without a murmur, have doomed herself to live 
on black bread. Loftiness of sentiment still reigned para- 
mount in her breast ; pride and noble ambition were not 
subdued by avarice." 

Count Las Casas, on his return to Europe from St. Helena, 
witnessed the truth of Napoleon's remarks. No sooner had 
he detailed his story of the Emperor's~situation, than the 
answer returned by the courier was, that " her whole for 
tune was at her son's disposal." 

XXXI. 

In October, 1818, she addressed an affecting appeal in hist 
behalf to the allied sovereigns assembled at Aix-laChapelle. 
" Sires," she wrote, " I am a mother, and my son's life is 



LAST DAYS OF LETITIA. 31 

dearer to me than my own. In the name of Him whose 
essence is goodness, and of whom your imperial and royal 
Majesties are the image, I entreat you to put a period to 
his misery, and to restore him to liberty. For this, I im- 
plore God, and I implore you, who are his vicegerents on 
earth. Reasons of state have their limits, and posterity 
which gives immortality, adores above all things, the 
generosity of conquerors." 

And in 1819, Napoleon having expressed his determina- 
tion, whatever might be the extremity of his case, not to 
permit the visits of an English physician, and his desire to 
have the company of a Catholic priest, she cheerfully de- 
frayed the expense of a mission to St. Helena, selected by 
Cardinal Fesch, with the approval of the Pope, consisting 
of Dr. Antommarchi, Father Bonavita, and Abbe Yignali. 

XXXII. 

Madame Letitia continued to reside at Rome, near her 
brother Cardinal Fesch, in the Palazzo Falconnieri, until her 
death, which took place on the 2d of February, 1836, at the 
advanced age of 86 years. She occupied an extensive suite 
of apartments in the palace of her choice, which were 
handsomely furnished, and with more attention to neatness 
and comfort than is common in Italy. Her establishment 
was splendid, but private and unostentatious. She lead a 
very retired life, in her declining years, amid the social 
circle of her children and a few intimate friends, and dis- 
pensing charities to the poor. She retained marks of her 
former beauty after she had reached her eightieth year. 
Canova's magnificent bust of her strikingly resembles the 
original. Her children and descendants were unwearied in 
their attentions to her to the last, and she died as she had 
lived, a zealous devotee of the Catholic faith. 



32 CARDINAL FESCH. 

She is buried in Rome — and her dust has mingled with 
the imperial soil which holds the ashes of the mother of 
the Gracchi, and half the heroes of the earth. 

XXXIII. 

CARDINAL FESCH, 

Born at Ajaccio, January 3rd., 1763— died at Rome, May 13th., 1839. 

The maternal uncle of Napoleon, Cardinal Fesch. was 
the son of Francis Fesch, by the mother of Letitia Ramo- 
lini, who, after the death of her first husband, contracted 
a second marriage with a captain in one of the Swiss 
Regiments in the service of France, then garrisoned in 
Corsica. Captain Fesch was a native of Basle, in Switzer- 
land, and a Protestant ; but adopted the Catholic faith to 
win the hand of the beautiful widow Ramolini. 

Joseph Fesch [afterwards Cardinal] remained in his 
native place till his thirteenth year, when he was sent 
to the college of Aix, in France, where he stayed till 
1789, when he was nominated by the Pope, Archdeacon 
of the cathedral of Ajaccio, an office which had become 
vacant by the resignation of Lucien Bonaparte, the great- 
uncle of Napoleon. At this time, and for many years 
afterward, the Abbe Fesch resided in the family of his 
sister, Letitia Bonaparte, whose husband he had accom- 
panied on a journey to France, in a futile search for 
health, and whom he had attended in his last hours. 

Between the Abbe Fesch, and his relatives of the 
Bonaparte family, there appears always to have been the 
most affectionate regard and mutual attachment. Pro- 
scribed in Corsica by the partisans of Paoli, with the 
other members of the Bonaparte family, the Abbe was 
compelled to leave his church and flock at Ajaccio. Fly* 



THE CONCQRDAT. 83 

ing with his sister and her children from the Island, tho 
exiles took up their residence at Marseilles. His sympa- 
thies like those of all his relatives, being in favor of 
Republican principles, Fesch withdrew from his clerical 
profession, which was proscribed during the reign of 
terror in France, and entered as a keeper of stores in 
the army of Montesquiou, in Savoy. In 1796 he became 
commissary-general in the army of Italy, under his nephew 
Napoleon. In that capacity he was believed to have ac- 
quired a considerable fortune. 

xxxiv. 

When Napoleon became First Consul, [1799], Fesch 
resumed the clerical profession, and after the Concordat 
with the Pope, [July, 1801], he was appointed Archbishop 
of Lyons, being consecrated by the Cardinal Legate iu 
person, [15th of August, 1802.] 

The Concordat is the name given to any formal agree- 
ment between the Pope of Rome and a foreign govern- 
ment, by which the ecclesiastical discipline of the Cath- 
olic clergy, and the management of the churches and 
benefices within the territory of that government, are 
regulated. Concordats have been made between the Pope 
and the Sovereigns of France and other European nations 
at different periods, but have become most frequent since 
the middle of the eighteenth century, an epoch from 
which the European Catholic governments have made 
themselves more independent of the ecclesiastical power ; 
and the Popes have been for the most part men of an 
enlightened and conciliatory spirit. But the most cele- 
brated Concordat in history is that now referred to, 
agreed upon between Cardinal Gonsalvi, in the name 
of Pius VII, and Joseph Bonaparte on the part of the 



84 CARDINAL FESCH. 

First Consul and Government of France, in 1801. The 
Pope made several concessions, seldom, if ever, granted by 
his predecessors. He suppressed many bishopricks, sanc- 
tioned the sale of church property which had taken place, 
superseded all bishops who had refused to take the oath to 
the Republic, and consented that the First Consul should 
appoint the bishops, subject to the approbation of the Pon- 
tiff. The clergy became subject to the civil power, like 
laymen. All immunities, ecclesiastical courts and jurisdic- 
tions were abolished, and the regulations of public worship 
were placed under the control of the secular authorities. 
This Concordat restored the Roman Catholic religion in 
France, and on the stipulations agreed on, it was pro- 
claimed, on the part of the French government, that the 
Catholic religion was that of the majority of Frenchmen ; 
that its worship should be free, public, and protected by the 
authorities, but under such regulations as the civil power 
should think proper to prescribe for the sake of public tran- 
quility ; that its clergy should be provided for by the .State ; 
that the cathedrals and parish churches should be re- 
stored to them. The total abolition of convents was also 
confirmed. This Concordat was not agreed to by the 
Pope without some scruples, nor without much opposition 
from several of the theologians and canonists of the 
Court of Rome. But considering the situation of France, 
where so many of the Catholic churches had been closed 
during the Revolution, and the persecutions to which the 
clergy had been subjected for years, they submitted to 
circumstances, and accepted the terms of the Concordat 
as a boon from the First Consul, whose power and influ- 
ence alone could have carried it into effect against the 
discontent and opposition of the infidel portion of the pea 
pie, still strong in numbers, power and influence. 



EMBASSY TO ROME. 35 

XXXV. 

On Easter Sunday, 1802, the Concordat was published at 
Paris, with a decree of regulations on matters of discipline, 
which were so drawn as to appear a part of the original 
Concordat. The regulations were, that no bull, brief, or 
decision from Rome, should be acknowledged in France 
without the previous approbation of the government ; no 
nuncio or apostolic commissioner to appear in France, and 
no council to be held without a similar consent ; appeals 
against abuses to be laid before the Council of State ; pro- 
fessors of Seminaries to subscribe to the four articles of the 
Galilean church of 1682 ; no priest to be ordained unless 
over twenty-five years of age ; and lastly, that the grand 
vicars of the respective dioceses should exercise the episco- 
pal authority after the demise of the bishop till the election 
of his successor, instead of vicars elected ad hoc by the 
respective chapters, as prescribed by the Council of Trent. 
Tills last article grieved most the court of Rome, as it affected 
the spiritual jurisdiction of the church. The Pope made re- 
monstrances, to which the First Consul turned a deaf ear. 

Regulations were issued at the same time, concerning the 
discipline of the Protestant churches in France. The Pro- 
testant clergy were also paid by the State. 

xxxvi. 

On the occasion of the solemn promulgation of the Con- 
cordat in the cathedral of Notre Dame, the Archbishop of 
Aix officiated, and the First Consul attended in full state. 
The old generals of the Republic had been invited by Mar- 
shal Berthier in the mornino; to attend the levee of the First 
Consul, who took them unawares with him to Notre Dame. 
The observation of Religious ceremonies, and attendance on 
Dublic worship soon became fashionable in Paris and other 



36 CAKDINAL FESCH 

parts of France, and the restoration of the Catholic faith as 
a religion of state was confirmed. Napoleon said, at St. 
Helena, that he never repented having signed the Concordat ; 
that it was a, great political measure ; that it gave him in- 
fluence over the Pope, and through him over a great part 
of the world, and especially Italy ; and that he might have 
ended by directing the Pope's councils altogether. 

In the arrangements of the Concordat, Fesch cordially con- 
curred, zealously co-operating with his nephew in his efforts 
to re-establish the Catholic religion. On the ITth of Janu- 
ary, 1803, he received from Pope Pius YII, the appointment 
of Cardinal, and soon afterwards was sent by Napoleon 
ambassador to the Court of Eome, where he was received 
with marked distinction. 

xxxvii. 

The Yiscount de Chateaubriand accompanied the Cardinal, 
as first secretary to the Embassy. During his residence at 
Rome, Fesch gave concerts in his Palace, even in Lent, to 
which he invited his colleagues of the Sacred College ; but 
in consequence of a special regulation, and an intimation 
from La Somaglia, the Cardinal Vicar, the cardinals de- 
clined these invitations. When Napoleon had restored his 
uncle to the clerical profession, at the time of the general 
restoration of the priesthood, he would only do so on con- 
dition of exemplary conduct ; for while commissary of war 
of Italy, no one, judging from his manner of life, would have 
taken M. Fesch to be a minister of religion. Returning 
to his first profession, where his powerful relationship war- 
ranted him in hoping the first rank and influence in the 
church, the Abbe, with a rare moral resolution, altered 
his manners, disguised his habits, and presented in a semi- 
nary, the spectacle of an edifying penitence. We have 



37 

noticed the rapidity of his advancement in honors and pre- 
ferment. When he had received the Archbishopric of 
Lyons, which had been kept vacant for him, and a Cardinal's 
hat, he showed himself, in the opinion of some, not the sup- 
porter of Napoleon, but rather his antagonist in the church ; 
and it was suspected that he intended some day to compel a 
nephew to whom he owed everything, to be dependent upon 
an uncle who was supported by the secret ill will of the 
clergy. Napoleon had complained of what he thought a 
new instance of family ingratitude, and M. Portalis, one of 
his counselors, had advised him to rid himself of that uncle, 
by sending him to Rome. " There,'' said M. Portalis, " he 
will have enough to do with the pride and prejudices of the 
Roman Court, and he will employ the faults of his disposi- 
tion to your service instead of your injury." It was to this 
end, and not for the purpose of some day making him Pope, 
as was pretended at the time, that Napoleon accredited Car- 
dinal Fesch to the court of Rome. 

XXXIX. 

In the autumn of 1804, the Cardinal accompanied Piu3 
YII. to Paris, to assist at the coronation of Napoleon and 
Josephine. He had already been employed in negotiations 
necessary to overcome the scruples of the Pope and his Car- 
dinals, in inducing the head of the Catholic church to accept 
the invitation of Napoleon, to undertake the journey over 
the Alps, at an inclement season. The restoration of the 
Catholic church in France had given Napoleon peculiar 
claims on the court of Rome, and after consulting with the 
cardinals, Pius gave his consent, and arrangements were 
made for his journey. The negotiations had been conducted 
in private, but although the secret had been well kept by 
Cardinal Fesch, the news from Paris and some inevitable 



38 CARDIXAL FESCH. 

indiscretions of the agents of tlie Holy See, caused the nego- 
tiations to be divulged, and the prelates and diplomatists of 
the court of Rome, indulged in censures and sarcasms. Pius 
VII. was styled the Chaplain of the Emperor of the French ; 
for that Emperor, standing in need of the ministry of the 
Pope, had not come to Rome, as Charlemange, Otho, Barba- 
rossa, and Charles Y. of the olden times ; he had summoned 
the Pope to his palace in France. 

The negotiations at Paris were conducted by the Pope's 
Legate, Cardinal Caprara. In his dispatches to Rome he 
described what was passing in Prance, the good to be ac- 
complished there by the Pope's visit ; and he positively 
affirmed that the Emperor's invitation could not be refused 
but with the greatest perils ; and that the Pope would derive 
only satisfaction from his journey. The Pope had his car- 
dinals enlightened by the letters of the legate, and urged 
by Cardinal Fesch, finally consented ; and it was settled that 
the Pontiff should start from Rome the 2d and reach Fon- 
tainbleau the 2Tth of November. 

As soon as the consent of the court of Rome was obtained, 
Cardinal Fesch declared that the Emperor would defray all 
the expenses of the journey; and he further made known 
the details of the magnificent reception in preparation for 
the head of the Catholic church. He desired that twelve 
cardinals, besides the Secretary of State, Gonsalvi, should 
accompany the Pope ; he also wished, contrary to the estab- 
lished custom, by which the cardinals take precedence in the 
order of seniority, to have the first place in the pontifical 
carriage, in quality of ambassador, grand almoner, and 
uncle to the Emperor. 

Pius YII. yielded some points, but was inflexible in the 
number of cardinals, and the attendance of the Secretary 
of State. Imagining his health worse than it really was. 



THE pope's JOURXEY TO PARIS. 39 

and mistaking the nervous agitation into which he was 
thrown for a dangerous illness, he thought it very likely he 
might die on his journey. He also feared that some advan- 
tage might be taken of his presence in France. With this 
apprehension, therefore, he had drawn up and signed his 
abdication, and placed it in the hands of Cardinal Gonsalvi, 
that he might be able to declare the pontificate vacant. In 
the event of his death or abdication it would be requisite 
to convoke the Sacred College to appoint his successor, and 
it was necessary, therefore, to have as many cardinals as 
possible at Rome, among others Gonsalvi, who was best 
qualified to guide the church in such an exigency. The 
Pope wished also to prove to the Court of Austria that he 
would not, as he had promised, treat with Napoleon upon 
any question foreign to the French church ; by not taking 
with him to Paris, Cardinal Gonsalvi, the man by whom all 
the important business of the Roman Court was transacted. 
For these reasons Pius refused to be attended by more 
than six cardinals, and the Secretary of State remained at 
Rome. He yielded to the personal pretensions of Cardi- 
nal Fesch, who was to occupy the first place from their 
arrival in France. 

XL. 

Having confided all necessary powers to Cardinal Gon- 
salvi, the Pope, [the morning of the 2d of November], went 
to the altar of St. Peter, and knelt for some time, surrounded 
by the cardinals, the nobles, and the people of Rome. On 
his knees he offered up a fervent prayer, as though about to 
brave imminent perils. From the tomb of the apostle he 
entered his carriage, and the cortege took the road towards 
Paris. The people followed his carriage for a long time, 
weeping. He trav.erse.d the Roman Statejj and Tuscany, 



40 CARDINAL FESCH. 

along roads lined by kneeling multitudes. At Florence 
lie was received by the Queen Regent of Etruria with due 
honors, and began to recover from his anxieties. Thence 
he was conducted by Piacenza, Parma and Turin, through 
Piedmont, to the Alps, which he crossed in safety. Extra- 
ordinary precautions had been taken to render the journey 
safe and comfortable to. himself and the aged cardinals who 
accompanied him. Officers of the imperial palace provided 
everything with zeal and magnificence. Descending the 
Alps he reached Lyons, where his alarm was changed into 
positive delight. The crowds of people who had assembled 
from the surrounding country, welcomed the head of the 
Catholic church with veneration. He now perceived that 
Cardinal Caprara spoke truly when he told him that his 
journey would be beneficial to religion, and prove a source 
of infinite gratification to himself. Peceiving at Lyons a 
letter of thanks from the Emperor, the Pope hastened on 
towards Paris. Napoleon met him [25th November] near 
Fontainbleau, and cordially embracing him, the two sove- 
reigns entered the Imperial carriage, for the favorite retreat 
of the Emperor. At the entrance to the palace, the empress, 
the court, and the chiefs of the army were arranged in a cir- 
cle, to receive the Pontiff and offer him their homage. Ac- 
customed as he was to the imposing ceremonies of Pome, he 
had never before gazed on so magnificent a scene. He was 
conducted to the apartments prepared for him, and after 
some hours of repose, received with cordiality the pre- 
sentations of the court. 

He conceived an affection for Napoleon which through 
many vicissitudes he cherished to the close of his life. On 
his reception at Fontainbleau he was filled with the emo- 
tion — he could not repress the joy of a welcome which to 
him seemed only the triumph of religion. 



PRIVATE MARRIAGE OF NAPOLEON. 41 



XLI. 

The 28tli of November, by the side of the Emperor the 
Pontiff entered Paris in the midst of every demonstration of 
love and reverence. He was conducted to the Palace of the 
Tuilleries, where he was installed with the sovereign honors 
of the Empire. He often went on the balcony of the Tuil- 
leries, accompanied by Napoleon,' where he was saluted by 
joyous acclamations. He looked on the people of Paris — • 
that people who had been the actors of the ferocious scenes 
of the Revolution, and inaugurated the goddess of Reason. 
They knelt before him, and received the pontifical benedic- 
tion. It is not strange that when Protestant Europe heard 
the news there was a general exclamation, Catholicism is far 
better than no religion. 

The coronation was celebrated Sunday, the 2d of Decem- 
ber, 1804. The evening previous, the Empress Josephine, 
who had found favor with the Pope, sought an interview 
with him, and declared that she had only been civilly mar- 
ried to Napoleon, as at the time of their nuptials, religious 
ceremonies had been abolished. The Pope, scandalized by 
a situation which in the eyes of the church, was a mere con- 
cubinage, declared to Napoleon that he could not by crown- 
ing Josephine give the divine consecration to the peculiar 
state in which they had lived. Napoleon, fearing to offend 
the Pope, whom he knew to be inflexible in matters of faith, 
and moreover unwilling to alter the programme which had 
been published, consented to receive the nuptial benediction. 
Josephine, sharply reprimanded by her husband, but de- 
lighted with her success, received the very night preceding 
the coronation, the sacrament of marriage in the chapel of 
the Tuilleries. Cardinal Fesch, with M. Talleyrand and 
^Marshal Berthier for witnesses, and with profound secrecy, 



42 CARDIXAL FESCH. 

married the Emperor and Empress. The secret was faith- 
fully kept till the divorce of Josephine. 

XLII. 

Having received from the Emperor the appointment of 
Grand Almoner of France, Cardinal Fesch took up hi 
residence in Paris. In February, 1805, he was invested by 
the Emperor with the grand cordon of the Legion of Honor, 
having been chosen by the Electoral College of Lot a mem- 
ber of the Senate. Decorated in July of the same year with 
the Order of the Golden Fleece, by the King of Spain, the 
Cardinal in 1806, was by Dalberg, Elector of Mayence, 
Arch-chancellor of the German Empire, and afterwards 
Prince Primate of the Confederation of the Ehine nomi- 
nated as his colleague, and destined to be his successor. 
Napoleon refused his sanction to this nomination, and after- 
wards appointed in his place for the German dignity, Eu- 
gene Beauharnais, with the title of Grand Duke of Frank- 
fort. The 31st January, 1809, Napoleon nominated Car- 
dinal Fesch, to the high Ecclesiastical station of Archbishop 
of Paris, but for reasons connected with the discussions 
which had for some time been going on between the Empe- 
ror and the Pope, he thought it his duty to decline the ap- 
pointment. Elected President of the Sacred Council of 
Paris, in 1810, the firmness with which he opposed some of 
the acts of Napoleon, particularly his violent treatment of 
Pius YIL, excited general astonishment. This honorable 
conduct, however, while it gained for him the esteem of the 
wise and virtuous, prejudiced his own interests. When the 
divorce of Josephine was agitated, Napoleon was very angry 
with Cardinal Fesch, for having divulged the secret of the 
religious consecration which had been given to his marriage, 
on the eve of their coronation, in 1804. The Emperor said 



fesch's connection with Josephine's divorce. 43 

that the ceremony performed without witnesses, in the 
chapel of the Tuilleries, was invalid ; that it had taken 
place solely to quiet the Pope's conscience ; and that to 
think of raising such an obstacle against him at that moment 
[Nov. 1809,] was perfidious on the part of his uncle. 

XLIII. 

It was settled, however, that as soon as there was no more 
need of secrecy the Arch-chancellor, [Cambaceres,] should 
assemble several bishops, and invent some means of dis- 
solving the spiritual union without having recourse to the 
Pope, from whom nothing was to be expected, under the 
circumstances. Canonical proceedings were, therefore, in- 
stituted before the diocesan court, to obtain the annulment 
of the religious marriage between Napoleon and Josephine. 
Cardinal Fesch, and Messrs. Talleyrand, Berthier and Duroc 
vvere heard, as witnesses ; the Cardinal as to the forms 
observed, the others as to the consent, given by the parties. 
Cardinal Fesch declared that he had received from the Pope 
a dispensation — for waiving certain forms in the execution 
of his duties as grand almoner, which in his opinion justified 
the absence of witnesses and of a Cure. As to the title, he 
affirmed its existence, and thus rendered useless the pre- 
caution which had been taken to withdraw from Josephine's 
hands the certificate of marriage, which her children had 
with much difficulty obtained from her. Talleyrand, Ber- 
thier and Duroc affirmed that Napoleon had repeatedly 
told them, he had consented only to a mere ceremony 
to satisfy the conscience of Josephine, and the Pope ; but 
that his formal intention at all times had been not to com- 
plete his union with the Empress ; being unhappily certain 
he should soon be obliged/to renounce her, for the interests 
of his Empire. 



44 CARDINAL FESCH. 

The decision of the ecclesiastical authority was, that 
there had not been sufficient consent — that there had been 
no witnesses, and no proper priest — that is to say, no parish 
clergyman — a minister accredited by the Catholic religion, 
to impart validity to a marriage. It declared that the dis- 
pensation granted to Cardinal Fesch in a general manner 
as grand almoner, could not have conferred on him the 
curial functions ; and consequently the inarriage was null, 
through defect of the most essential forms. The marriage 
was therefore broken, before both the diocesan and the 
metropolitan jurisdiction, with the full observance of the 
canon law. At the marriage [in April, 1810,] of Napoleon 
and Maria Louisa, however, Cardinal Fesch gave the nuptial 
benediction. 

Having fallen into disfavor at the court of Napoleon, 
Cardinal Fesch retired to his See at Lyons, where he pur- 
chased and furnished with great splendor the magnificent 
edifice which formerly belonged to the Carthusians ; where 
he resided, till the advance of the Austrians, toward Lyons 
in January, 1814. Dissatisfied with the Lyonese, who, he 
said, '' had not the sense to defend themselves," he withdrcAV 
from his See ; and after various changes of place, and nar- 
rowly escaping capture by the Austrians, arrived on Easter- 
day, at Orleans, whence with his sister, Madame Letitia, he 
took the road to Rome, where his recent fatigues were soon 
forgotten in the kind reception he met with from his old 
fi'iend, Pius YIL 

The Cardinal now seemed anxious to live in retiremen 
at Rome, but on the escape of Napoleon from Elba, he threw 
open his palace, became unusually cheerful, gave splendid 
evening parties, and openly acknowledged that he con- 
sidered his nephew's return to France, as the special work 
of Divine Providence. Following Napoleon, to Paris, the 



45 

Car. filial was created a Peer of France, only a fortnight 
befoi <5 the battle of Waterloo. 

XLiy. 

Soon after the Battle of Waterloo, Cardinal Fesch ad- 
dressed the following letter to his neice, the Princess 
Pauline Borghese. It was intercepted and published in 
the Turin Journal, in August, 1815 : — 

" Paris, June 28th, 1815. 
" Lucien set off yesterday for London, in order to get 
passports for the rest of the family. Joseph and also 
Jerome will wait for their passports. Lucien has left here 
his second daughter, who has just arrived from England ; 
she will set off again in a few days. I foresee the United 
States will be the end of the chase. I think you ought to 
remain in Italy ; but recollect that character is one of the 
most estimable gifts of the Creator, with which he has en- 
riched your family. Exercise courage then, and strength 
of mind, to rise superior to misfortune. Let no economy 
appear a sacrifice. At this moment we are all poor. Your 
mother and brothers embrace you. 

" Your affectionate uncle, 

" Cardinal Fesch." 

On the second return of the Bourbons, and the dispersion 
of the Bonaparte family, Cardinal Fesch, in the company of 
his sister, once more set out for Rome, where they were to 
pend the rest of their days. 

With the same firmness he had once opposed the measures 
of Napoleon he disapproved, Fesch refused to accede to the 
demand of the Bourbons to resign his archbishopric of 
Lyons. In this dilemma, the Abbe de Rohan, a French 
noble, was appointed Grand Yicar-General of Lyons, against 



46 CARDINAL FESOH. 

the will of the Cardinal. A papal brief in 1824 prohibited 
Fesch from the exercise of his spiritual jurisdiction in that 
diocese. 

XLY. 

In the possession of great wealth, the cardinal was liberal 
in Lis expenditures in France and at Rome, especially in 
objects of art, of which he was a judicious and munificent 
patron. His gallery of paintings at Rome occupied three 
stories of his princely palace. The collection embraced 
fourteen hundred pictures, and was considered one of the 
largest and best in Rome. Besides many of the first Italian 
masters, it was singularly rich in the works of the Flemish 
and Dutch schools. Some years before his death, he sold a 
large part of his paintings, and by his will divided those 
remaining between the Vatican and his relatives, to the 
latter of whom he left most of his other property. 

Cardinal Fesch died in Rome, May 13, 1839 — in his *77th 
year. As a member of the Sacred College he had partici- 
pated in the election of three Popes, viz : Leo XII. in 1823 ; 
Pius YIII. in 1829 ; Gregory XVI. in 1831. His funeral 
was celebrated in the church of San Lorenzo, in Lucina, and 
was attended by many of the cardinals, and upwards of one 
hundred bishops and archbishops. 

In person. Cardinal Fesch was corpulent, of middle height, 
and in early life handsome ; while his manners were pleasing 
and devoid of assumption or arrogance. -Though considered 
by many vain and ambitious, there was nothing stern or in 
tolerant about him, and to strangers he was particularly 
liberal and aflFable. During a large portion of his career 
his influence in the church of Rome was very great, enabling 
him to be of essential service to the Bonaparte family, and 
notwithstanding his occasional differences with Napoleon, 
ehowing his uniform attachment to them in prosperity and 



CHARACTER OF CARDINAL FESCH. 47 

adversity. Zealously devoted to tlie interests of Napoleon, 
we have seen that he did not hesitate to withhold his ap- 
proval of those great errors of the Emperor, the treatment 
of Pius YII., in his advanced years, and the repudiation of 
Josephine, coinciding doubtless in these respects with the 
feelings of Napoleon's best friends, and a great majority of 
the French nation. 



BOOK TI. 



NAPOLEOI. 

Born at Corsica, August 15, 1769 ; Died at St. Helena, 

May 5, 1821 ; Buried in the Hotel des Inva- 

lides, Paris. Dec. 15, 1840. 



NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 

I. 

Most of Napoleon's biographers have croTvded his child- 
hood and youth with miracles — but there was nothing mar- 
Telous about it. So far from having displayed any pre- 
cocity of genius, he was rather a common-place boy. The 
only quality he was distinguished for in his childhood on 
his own confession, was obstinacy. Even after the Seige of 
Toulon, his mother and the friends of the family regarded 
Joseph, his elder brother, as his superior. His conduct on 
the 13th Yendemaire, [Oct. 4, 1795], was the first display 
he had ever made of the elements of true greatness. He 
grew up rather slow ; and this may account for the sturdi- 
ness of his growth. It has often been observed that " late 
springs produce the greatest plenty." The lioness may pro- 
duce but one whelp at a birth — but it is a lion : and the oak 
which defies a thousand whirlwinds, grows slow. 

II. 

The first twenty-five years of Napoleon's life he was gro\v- 
ing down — but when he started up, he shot to the stars. He 
has titles enough to greatness, without borrowing plumes 
from the gratuitous bedeckings of prurient writers. On 
every subsequent emergency he displayed capacity for which 
his contemporaries found no parallel- He outstripped the . 
standard measurements of power in all its forms, and dis- 
tanced competition at exevj step. 



52 NAPOLEON. 



Ill, 



It has often been remarked by superficial authors that 
Napoleon rose at a favorable moment — that events were 
waiting for him. It is true — but not in the sense they un- 
derstand it. It was a favorable moment for a great pilot to 
seize the helm — ^for the ship was driving on the rocks — but 
it took a mighty hand to guide her. 

The fiery chariot of Revolution was rolling by, but every 
Phaeton who had mounted the flying-car, had been dashed 
to pieces. It had crushed a thousand leaders in the dust, 
and was still careering its lightning-way over the bosom of 
France. Napoleon sprang to the car, and drove it whither- 
soever he listed. His will was too strong for everything 
but omnipotence ! — He had a great opportunity, but to at- 
tempt to grasp it would have been fatal to any other man. 
He reached the shore when it was strewn with the wreck 
of a whole mob of great men. Among them lay the man- 
gled corpse of Robespierre — that coward demon of the 
Reign of Terror. This Canute of a political ocean con- 
trolled the waves. 

IV. 

In an age of Heroes he became the first of Soldiers — in 
an age of Kings the only monarch men feared — in a century 
and a country of trappings, and lace, and powder, the master 
of the only brilliant Court — in an age of a hundred Sove- 
reigns, the only throne-maker. And whatever he built, he 
constructed out of Chaos. It grew, too, by the act of his 
own will ; as the wand of the Genii built the palace for 
Aladdin. His palaces, too, were inhabited, not by the 
puling inheritors of Hapsburgh sceptres ; but by the Great- 
Hearts of the People — who lived in the air of Liberty and 
Battle — who had trampled old crowns into the dust, and' 
made new ones more to their liking — kingdoms cut out of 
Feudal domains, by the only real Damascus blade — Heroism I 



napoleon's education. 58 

V. 

The traveler who visits Corsica, should give a few hours 
for a ride to the Country Villa of the Bonaparte Family. 
Passing up the lawn where rude peasants now press their 
vintage, he will go through the old Villa into the garden, 
where his ears will ring with the echoes of the gay shouts 
of that infantile horde of kings and queens, that played 
there in their childhood ! 

There is nothing marvelous after all, in the spirit of My- 
thology. Hero-worship is an instinctive sentiment. The 
Classic Lands were peopled by heroes, and history turned 
them into divinities. In those days, when all was so fair 
and innocent in the garden of the Bonaparte Villa at 
Corsica, and the death-flood was submerging France, there 
were many groups of infant triflers the world has never 
heard of. But in this home-nest, there was an Eagle ; and 
when he soared, he bore with him his little companions to 
the summits of the earth. 

So much for heroism. Historians have set these talons 
growing too quick — as if there were danger they would not 
grow fast and large enough ! Young Napoleon was not an 
extraordinary boy. His boyhood was filled with moodiness, 
solitude and reflection. 

VII. =^ 

It was decided that Napoleon should be a soldier 
and in his tenth year he was sent to the Military School 
at Brienne as a pensioner of the king. He was a poor 
boy ; and his position often and for many years subjected 
him to the keenest mortification. The school was made 
up chiefly, of the sons of the proud old JYobksse of the 
realm, whose ancestry dated from the times of Charlo- 



5-i NAPOLEOX BONAPARTE. 

magne. They were furnished with all the appliances of 
luxury, and they inherited the pride as well as the sou- 
venirs of their race. Napoleon was prouder than they ; 
and he seldom mingled with those he so earnestly de- 
spised. The five years he passed at Brienne, were made 
up of solitude, secret suffering, chagrin and study. But 
when his course was finished, he went through his examina- 
tion so well, he was recommended by his masters for ad- 
mission to the Royal Military School at Paris, where he 
came within the vortex of the Revolution. 

VIII. 

Although his genius alone, had given him the passport 
to tliis focal point of rank and refinement to which others 
were admitted only by the accident of birth, or the favor 
of the court, he encountered a still more intolerable, and 
repelling atmosphere ; for while every third boy that 
looked on him, was a duke from his cradle, the young 
Corsican was still a pensioner of the king! It is easy 
to imagine how the pride of a boy like Napoleon, must 
have been stung by the imperious manners of his haughty 
companions ; and what he suffered, inflamed in his soul a 
deep contempt for mere hereditary rank, and a love for 
popular rights. He declaimed violently against 'the luxury 
in which his rich companions were indulged ; and drew 
the contrast between their education, and the manner in 
which the Spartans trained up their sons. His feelings 
were so deep on the subject, that on being reproved by 
an uncle of the Dutchess d'Albrantes, for ingratitude as 
a pensioner of the king, he furiously broke out with 
an expression of his indignation — " Silence," said the 
gentleman, at whose table he was sitting — " It ill becomes 
vou who are educated by the king's bounty, to speak as 



55 

you do." Those at the table afterwards said, they 
thought he would have been stifled with rage. He turned 
red and pale in an instant, and said, " I am not educated 
at the king's expense — but at the expense of the nation.'^ 
He addressed a memorial to the chief of the school, re- 
monstrating against the luxurious elegance of the young 
nobles ; and attempted to show, that no men could be fitted 
for the hardships of military life, without habits of greater 
independence. That they should be obliged to clean their 
own rooms, groom their own horses, and inure themselves 
to some of the hardships they would encounter in war — 
" If,'' said he one day, " I were king of France I would 
change this state of things very quick." — He had the satis 
faction of doing this before he became king ! 

IX. 

The three years he spent in the school at Paris, decided 
his character and history. He was standing by the side of 
the crater of the Revolution, and he grew feverish with its 
subterranean fires. He was nurturing deep in his soul, the 
passions and principles that were to guide his life. He 
mingled little in society ; but he saw much of the people, and 
took sides irrevocably with the cause of the nation. This has 
always been a Bonaparte trait. His studies were prosecuted 
with zeal and intensity. He made such advancement in 
mathematics, that the great La Place, by whom he was ex- 
amined for admission to the army, could not withhold a 
public expression of his admiration and praise. He read pro- 
foundly all the great Histories of men and nations ; while 
his closest and deepest studies were given to Tacitus, that 
profound master of political wisdom, and Plutarch, the 
sculptor of ancient Heroes. The wild and gorgeous poems 
of Ossian had just flashed on Europe. Gleaming with the 



56 NAPOLEON BOXAPARTE. 

chivalry ol* an ideal age, and filled with dim solemn pictures 
of love, victory and death, those wonderful writings became 
his favorite poems throughout life. They are filled with 
scenes not unlike some in his own history. While he was 
scaling the summits of the Great St. Bernard amidst the 
desolations of an eternal winter, and when his cannon 
waked the echoes of the holy mountains of Judea, that had 
once responded to the voice of God, he must have recalled 
the awful imagery of Ossian. Thus it was that his intellec- 
tual, social, political and military character was formed. 
His intimacy at this time with the learned Abbe Raynal, 
contributed materially to his intellectual progress ; and 
during this period he must have learned nearly all that he 
ever knew of books ; since his subsequent life was passed 
cliiefly in camps, battles, courts and cabinets. 

X. 

In August, 1785, he received his first commission in the 
army ; and he had just completed his 16th year when he 
joined his Artillery at Yalence as Second Lieutenant. He 
now moved more in society, and frequented intimately the 
family of Madame Colombier — an accomplished lady, to 
whose daughter he offered his hand in marriage. But the 
"pennyless Lieutenant" was rejected. The girl married. 
Napoleon met her at Lyons after he became Emperor, and 
placed her as Lady of Honor to one of his sisters, and pro- 
vided a good place for her husband in the public service. 

XI. 

But most of his leisure at Valence was devoted to study, 
and he competed anonymously for a prize offered by the 
A^cademy of Lyons for the best essay on a thesis proposed by 
Raynal — " What institutions are best calculated to promole 



NAPJLEOX IX THE ARMY. 57 

/ 

the highest happiness of a nation ?" Many years later Talley- 
rand found the successful manuscript and showed it to the 
Emperor, who glanced over a page or two and cast it into 
the fire. 

He also meditated a History of the Revolutions of his na- 
tive Island, and had nearly prepared a portion of it for pub- 
lication, [two chapters in manuscript being still in the pos- 
session of the Earl of Ashburnham], which after being 
carefully read by Raynal, he thought worthy of sending to 
Mirabeau, who, on returning the manuscript to Raynal, said, 
" That it indicated a genius of the first order." His studies 
were soon broken by the explosion of the Revolution. He 
had been promoted to a first lieutenancy, and early in 1792 
he became a Captain of Artillery. He was in Paris during 
the terrible summer of that year and witnessed the insur- 
rection of June 20, and the terrible assault on the Tuilleries. 
From one of its terraces he saw the head of poor Louis 
crowned with the Cap of Liberty by the mob. Fired with 
indignation he said to Bourienne, who was standing at his 
side — " Why did they give way to that Canaille ! I would 
have blown five hundred of them into the air, and the rest 
would have taken to their heels." Napoleon always abhor- 
red anarchy. He said there was no remedy for mobs but 
grape-shot. 

He witnessed also the terrific 10th of August : another 
assault on the Palace — the National Guard joining the in- 
surgents — the royal family flying for refuge to the National 
Assembly — the massacre of the Swiss Guards at their posts 
— the infernal howlings of a brutal mob drenched in blood 
carrying on pikes the dripping heads of their fellow-citizens. 
Napoleon withdrew with horror and disgust from Paris, and 
with a leave of absence visited his mother at Corsica. 



68 NAPOLEOX BONAPAETE. 

XII. 

Paoli, who had been made Governor of Corsica by the 
National Assembly, was now endeavoring to bring the 
Island under the government of England ; and he tried to 
seduce Napoleon from his loyalty to France. The old Cor- 
sican Patriot slapped him on the shoulder and said good-na- 
turedly, " You are modeled after the ancients — you are one 
of Plutarch's men." This was true — but it did not win Na- 
poleon ; and although Paoli had been his idol from his child- 
hood, he now deserted him forever. Corsica yielded to 
England — Napoleon fought to save it. He saw Ajaccio laid 
in ashes, and the home of his childhood burned. The Bon-a- 
partes escaped from the Island for an asylum in France, and 
Napoleon returned to Paris. 

XIII. 

The head of Louis XYL, had rolled from the block, [21st 
Jan. 1793], a gauntlet for the monarchies of Europe ; and a 
month after, the Convention had declared Y^ar against 
England. This precipitated all Europe on France, and 
kings leagued together to crush her Republic. The Bour- 
bon party was still strong in France, particularly in the 
South, where they had delivered the great arsenal and sea- 
port of Toulon, into the hands of England : The arsenal was 
filled with military stores ; and twenty -fiv_e English and Span- 
ish line-of-battle-ships were riding in the harbor. The Con 
vention bent all its forces at once to the recovery of Toulon 
The Seige had been now four months in progress — ^but the in 
competency of one commander, and the cowardice of his sue 
cesser, left the place untaken. Napoleon was dispatched 
from Paris to take command of the artillery. He arrived, 
examined the works, detected the blunders of the com- 
mander — formed a plan of attack — and was at last allowed 



NAPOLEON AT TOULON" /)9 

to carry it into execution, by General Dugommier. "While 
he was collecting his artillery, and planting batteries of 200 
guns, with Duroc and Junot to aid him, he displayed what 
he afterwards became so distinguished for — an apparently 
total insensibility to fatigue. He worked through daylight, 
and slept nights by his guns till his batteries were ready 
when the attack began. 

XIV. 

Eight thousand bombs and shells were thrown into Little 
Gibraltar Castle, which shattered the walls, and at day- 
break the French with the dauntless Muiron for a leader, 
rushed over them, and put the whole garrison to the sword. 
This fort commanded the harbor, and Napoleon, had said 
that the only way to get Toulon, was to carry Little 
Gibraltar, and the city would surrender in two days. His 
words were prophetic. He turned the new batteries he had 
seized, in another direction, and poured down a destructive 
fire upon the hostile fleets. The scene which followed for 
many hours baffles description. Upwards of 14,000 o£ the 
Bourbonists crowding the shores to find refuge from the 
Republican victors on board the fleets which were now 
moving out to sea — the explosion of vessels and arsenals — 
the merciless shower of shells falling from the French bat- 
teries — the screams of thousands of women — the groans of 
the wounded and dying — and spreading flames ; all mingled 
in a drama of terror, death and victory. 

Napoleon's science and valor had thus saved France from 
humiliation — taught her enemies to respect her — suppressed 
the spirit of insurrection in the Southern Provinces and 
given the government of the Convention control of the 
whole army. His name was not mentioned in the Dispatch 
of the Representatives, giving an account of the conflict- 
But a truly great man can always aff'ord to bide his time. 



60 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 

XV. 

Under tlie same General Dugommier, lie was appointed to 
join the army of Italy at Nice, for the Campaign against 
Piedmont, with the rank of Chef de Battalion. His skill and 
boldness gave success to the expedition. He suggested the 
plan which resulted in the expulsion of the Piedmontese 
from the Col di Tende, [7th March, 1794], the strong for- 
tification of Saorgio with its rich stores capitulated — and 
the maritime Alps fell into the hands of France. But again 
his superiors reaped the honors of victory, and so far from 
deriving any credit or advantage from his achievements, he 
was arrested on the fall of Eobespierre, and thrown into 
prison. History has finally branded the meanness of this 
proceeding upon Salicetti — a Corsican adventurer who had 
risen into temporary power in France, and who resolved 
to crush his young countryman, whose genius he compre- 
hended, and whose future eminence he foresaw. Salicetti 
was, however, foiled in his malicious attempt on the life of 
Napoleon. He succeeded, however, so far — that Napoleon 
was declared unworthy of public confidence and dismissed 
from the army, [July 28, 1794]. In a bold, concise and 
energetic letter to the Committee of Public Safety, he says, 
* * u You have suspended me from my functions — 
arrested, and declared me suspected. Therein you have 
branded me without judging — or rather judged without 
hearing. * * Hear me ; destroy the oppression tha. 
environs me and restore me in the estimation of patrioti 
men. An hour after, if villains desire my life, I shall esteen 
it but little : I have despised it often." 

The resolution was reconsidered, and he was released 
provisionally from arrest and offered the command of a 
(general of Infantry in La Yendee, which he indignantly 
refused. 



NAPOLEON DISMISSED FROM THE ARMY. 61 

XYI. 

It is a strange spectacle — to see the young officer 
struck from the rolls of the French army by the very 
men who afterwards contended for the honor of the 
meanest posts in his Empire, and one of whom (Salicetti) 
owed to Napoleon's magnanimity his life, which his vil- 
lainy had forfeited a hundred times. 

He withdrew for a while from Paris, and joined his 
family who were living in very reduced circumstances 
at Marseilles. It appears that he there formed another 
tender attachment, and would have married Mademoiselle 
Clery, [who afterwards became the wife of Bernadotte 
and queen of Sweden], had it not been for his poverty, 
which was now extreme. 

In the month of May, [1795], Napoleon returned to 
Paris and applied to the Government for employment. He 
had fixed his eye on the East, that old theatre of Empire, 
and he asked for a mission to Turkey, to render that 
kingdom a more formidable barrier against the encroach- 
ments of Russia and England — to repair the old defences 
and erect new ones, and diffuse through the East the spirit 
of modern civilization. There were doubtless dreams of 
glory and the charm of adventure in his imagination. 
Bourienne remarks that " if the Committee had written 
granted at the bottom of the application, it would have 
changed the fate of Europe." So the young soldier turned 
away dejected ; and had it not been for his friend Junot, 
who divided with him his purse, he would most likely have 
grown desperate. It is more than probable that the timely 
arrival from Junot's mother of a small sum of money, which 
he at once shared with Napoleon, kept him from suicide. 

But events were thickening, and the idle and neglected 
young aspirant was soon to find scope for all his activity. 



62 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 

XVII. 

Once more Paris was on the eve of a Revolution — and 
again 40,000 of the National Guard were in arms 
against the Goverment. A collision had taken place, [3rd 
Oct.], when the troops of the Convention were drawn 
off by the Commander. The insurgents were prepared 
to attack the Palace the next morning, put an end to 
the National Convention and take the Government into 
their own hands. There was no time for trilling when 
the Convention assembled. " There is but one' man who 
can save us," said Barras to his colleagues : and Napo- 
leon's name was at once proposed, as second in com- 
mand under Barras. The convention confirmed the choice 
by a decree, and Napoleon was present during the pro- 
ceedings. He hesitated half an hour before he gave his 
answer. He accepted the trust on the sole conditio a 
that he should not be interfered with by the represent- 
atives of the people. The trembling Convention yielded 
to the condition, and without the loss of a minute began 
his preparations for the morrow which was to decide 
whether the mob should triumph and France lose all 
the fruits of her Revolution, or law and order be estab- 
lished. Murat, Junot and many of the best officers of 
France, were flying all night through Paris collecting 
cannon and arranging the forces. 

XVIII. 

When the morning reveil sounded, the 40,000 insurgents 
began their march in compact and heavy columns from every 
section of Paris up to the Palace. The column which was 
advancing along the Rue St. Honore, found a detachment of 
Napoleon's troops drawn up to dispute their passage, with 
two cannon. The National Guards leveled their muskets— 



QUELLIXG OF THE SECTIONS. 63 

but a flint had hardly struck fire before a storm of grape- 
shot swept them from the street. The signal had been 
given, and all Napoleon's batteries, throughout the city, 
guarding the bridges of the Seine and the approaches to the 
Tuilleries, poured forth their murderous fire in all directions. 
In less than forty minutes the victory was complete, and the 
40,000 insurgents had fled, leaving the streets where they 
stood barricaded with the wounded and the dead, and 
drenched with their blood. Napoleon gave orders for the 
instant disarming of the Sections ; and the sun went down 
as calmly over the helpless city as though nothing had hap- 
pened. The supremacy of the laws had been triumphantly 
asserted — life and property were secure in Paris for half a 
century. That same evening the theatres were opened and 
illuminated, and there were general rejoicings. Napoleon's 
star rose that night above the horizon, and began to mount 
and blaze towards the zenith". 



The victor was rewarded by the appointment of General- 
in-Chief of the Army of the Interior. All Paris rushed to 
catch a glimpse of the Commander. To give France the 
full benefit of the 13th Yendemaire, everything was to be 
done, and Napoleon had to do it. His labors were enor- 
mous ; but he still found time for study, and frequented very 
little the gay society of the Capital. As Commander of 
Paris, he had to hold his Military Levees, at one of which 
an incident occurred one morning which claims its place 
even in this brief sketch. A beautiful boy about twelve 
years old approached Napoleon and said, " My name is 
Eugene Beauharnais. My father, Viscount and a General 
of the Republican Armies, has died by the guillitone, and I 
am come to pray you to give me his sword." Napcloon 



64 NAPOLEON BOXAPARTB. 

complied with his request, and the boy covered it with his 
Kisses and tears. He ran with it to his mother, who, pene- 
trjited with gratitude, went to the General the following day, 
to thank him, in person. That interview had much to do 
with his future life. 

XX. 

The Reign of Terror had ended with the death of Robes- 
pierre, and order had been restored in Paris. The Govern- 
ment had time now to provide for the external affairs of the 
State, and the Army of Italy, languishing under a nerveless 
Commander, demanded its first attention. It had accom- 
plished nothing since Bonaparte was dismissed from it in 
disgrace, and the Directory resolved to send them a new 
General. All eyes were turned towards Napoleon, and he re- 
ceived the command, without a rival or superior in his camp. 

XXI. 

On the 9th of March, 1796, the young Conqueror of the 
Sections married Josephine Beauharnais, and a few days 
later set out to take command of the Army of Italy. He 
traversed France with the swiftness of a courier, spent a 
few hours with his mother at Marseilles, [whose comfort 
and independence were now provided for], and before the 
expiration of the month, he thus addressed his army of 
50,000 destitute and disheartened men in Italy : — 

" Soldiers ! — You are hungry and naked : the Republic 
owes you much, but she has nothing to give you. Your en- 
durance amidst these barren rocks deserves admiration ; but 
it brings you no glory. I come to lead you to the most fer- 
tile plains the sun shines on. Opulent provinces and large 
towns will soon be in our power, and there you will reap 
riches and glory. Soldiers of Italy ! — will you be wanting 
in courao-e ?'' 



THE ARMY OF ITALY. G5 

This was the first word of encouragement the army of 
Italy had heard ; and it shot martial enthusiasm thruogh 
their veins like electric fire. Under the incompetent man- 
agement of Scherer that great army had been broughr. to 
wretchedness and want, and their horses had died of famine. 
And yet their battalions were headed by such officer^? as 
Massena, Menard, Surrurier, Laharpe, Rampon, Joubert, 
Lannes, and Augereau, and a hundred others thirsting for 
battle. 

In his dispatch to the Directory of the 8th April, the 
Commander-in-Chief says, " I found this army destitute of 
everything and without discipline. Insubordination and 
discontent had gone so far that a party for the Dauphin 
had been formed in camp, and they were singing songs op- 
posed to the tenets of the Revolution. You may, however, 
rest assured that peace and order will be restored. By the 
time you receive this letter, we shall have met the enemy.'' 

XXII. 

Napoleon's career of victory began as it continued, in 
defiance of the established rules of warfare ; and what dis- 
tinguished him above all his contemporaries was his ability 
to (ionvert the most unfavorable circumstances into the 
means of success. Where other men would have recoiled 
from inevitable death, he advanced to decisive victory. 
Where other generals saw reasons for discouragement, he 
horrowed inspiration for hope. 

He now found himself under the weight of a responsibility 
seldom cast upon so young a man. He was in the dominions 
of hostile sovereigns whose royal kinsmen had died by (lie 
guiliotine in the Reign of Terror. The Sardinian King was 
father-in-law to both the brothers of Louis XVI., and Maria 
Antoinette was sister to the Emperor of Austria. He was 



G6 NAPOLEOX BOXAPARTE. 

moreover, in a land which had been ruled for ages by the 
Hierarchy of Rome, who saw in the French Revolution only 
the desxruction of God's altars and the murder of his 
priests. He was obliged to provide resources for himself 
in an enemy's country, and within a day's march of him lay 
three powerful armies, with either of which it seemed mad 
ness to attempt to cope. He had yet achieved no fame in 
the held, and not a general in Europe would have blamed 
him if he had only succeeded in holding the territory of 
Nice and Savoy, which France had already won. 

XXIII. 

But his views were bounded by no such limits. He un- 
dertook to accomplish three objects — so great, that the 
conception of either indicated the vastness of his mind, 
and the measure of his confidence. Firsts to compel the 
King of Sardinia — ^with a strong army in the field, to aban- 
don his alliance with Yienna. Second^ to force Austria 
to concentrate her forces in her Italian Provinces, thus 
obliging her to withdraw them from the bank of the Rhine. 
Thirds to humble the power of the Vatican, and break the 
'prestige of its Jesuitical diplomacy forever. , 

To accomplish these bold endeavors with such slider 
means, [and of his 50,000 men only 25,000 could be brought 
into the field], he was obliged to forget all that men had 
taught about the art of war, and invent a system for him- 
self — a system in which the favors of fortune might be won 
by the daring of chivalry ; and genius and intrepidity atono 
for numbers in battle. He knew he would have to deal 
with veteran soldiers and experienced generals: — men who 
had learned the art of war before he was born. He there- 
fore resolved that every movement should be made with 
celerity, and every blow l;eveleci where it was least expected. 



VICTORY OF MOXTE-NOTTE. 67 



XXIY. 



Beaiilieu, the Austrian General, witli a powerful, disci- 
plined and well-appointed army determined to cut off Na- 
poleon's advance into Italy. He posted himself with one 
column at Yoltri, a town on the sea, ten miles west of Genoa 
• — D'Argenteau with another column occupied the heights of 
Monte-Notte, while the Sardinians, led by General Colli, 
formed the right of the line at Ceva. This disposition was 
made in compliance with the old system of tactics. But it 
was powerless before new strategy. On the morning of 
the 12th April, when D'Argenteau advanced from Monte- 
Notte to attack the column of Rampon, he found that by 
skillful manoeuvers during the night Napoleon had com- 
pletely surrounded him. He fought gallantly, but seeing 
that to continue the battle would only end in destruction, 
he fled to the mountain-fastnesses, leaving his colors and 
cannon, with 1000 dead and 2000 prisoners on the field. 
This was the centre of the great Austrian Army. It was 
completely routed before either of the wings, or even the 
Commander-in-Chief knew that a battle had begun. This 
was the Victory of Moxte-Notte — from which Napoleon 
dated the origin of his nobility. 

XXY. 

Beaulieu fell back on Dego where he could open his com- 
munication with Colli, who had retreated to Millesimo. 
They were again strongly posted, and dispatching couriers 
to Milan, intended to wait for reinforcements before they 
risked another engagement. But they were not dealing 
with an old general, and this respite they could not have. 

The morning after the victory of Monte-Notte, Napoleon 
dispatched Augereau to attack Millesimo ; Massena to fall 



68 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 

on Dego, and La Harpe, to turn the flank of Beaulieu. Mas- 
sena carried the heights of Biastro at the point of the bayo- 
net, while La Harpe dislodged the Austrian General from 
his position, which separated him hopelessly from the Sar- 
dinian commander, and put him to precipitate flight. Mean- 
time Augereau had seized the outposts of Millesimo and cut 
ofi' Pro vera with 2000 men from Calli's army. The next 
morning. Napoleon who had arrived in the night, forced 
Calli to battle — shattered his army, and put them to flight — 
Provera surrendered to escape slaughter. Hotly pursued by 
the victors, Calli rallied his fugitives at Mondovi, where 
they again yielded to the irresistible onset of the French. 
He left his baggage and cannon, and his best troops, on 
the field. The Sardinian army had ceased to exist, and the 
Austrians were flying to the frontiers of Lombardi. 

Napoleon entered Cherasco — a strong place ten miles 
from Turin, where he dictated the terms by which alone the 
Sardinian King could still wear a crown. From the castle 
where he stood, and looking off upon the garden-fields of 
Lombardy, which had gladdened the eyes of so many con- 
querors, with the Alps behind him, glittering in their peren- 
nial snows. Napoleon said to his ofiicers, " Hannibal forced 
the Alps — we have turned them." The following Bulletin 
sums up the history of the campaign to this moment : — ■ 

" Soldiers ! in fifteen days you have gained six victories, 
taken twenty-one stand of colors, fifty -five pieces of cannon 
several fortresses, and conquered the ricFest part of Piedmont 
You have made 15,000 prisoners, killed or wounded upwards 
of 1 0,000 men. Hitherto you have fought for barren rocks, 
rendered famous by your valor, but useless to your country. 
Your services now equal those of the victorious army of 
Holland and the Rhine. You have provided yourselves with 
everything of which you were destitute — You have gained 



FLIGHT OF THE AUSTRIaNS. 69 

Ijattles without cannon, passed rivers without bridges, made 
forced marches without shoes, bivouacked without strong 
liquors, and often without bread. Eepublican phalanxes, Sol- 
diers of Liberty, only could have endured all this. Thanks 
for your perseverance, and if your conquest of Toulon pre- 
saged the immortal campaign of 1793, your present victories 
presage a still nobler. But, Soldiers, you have done nothing 
while so much remains to do. Neither Turin nor Milan 
are yours. The ashes of the Conquerors of the Tarquins 
are still trampled by the assassins of Basseville." 

To the Italians he said : — 

" People of Italy ! The French army come to break your 
chains. The People of France are the friends of all nations 
— confide in them. Your property, your religion and your 
customs shall be respected. We make war with those tyrants 
alone who enslave you." 

His army flushed with victory, were eager to continue 
their march, and the People of Italy hailed Napoleon as 
their deliverer. The Sardinian King did not long survive 
the humiliation of his crown — he died of a broken heart. 
In the meantime the couriers of Napoleon were almost every 
hour riding into Paris with the news of his victories, and 
five times in six days the Representatives of France had 
decreed that the army of Italy deserved well of their 
country. 

XXVII. 

The Austrian General concentrated his flying battalions 
behind the Po, between Turin and Milan, with the hope of 
arresting the French Army in their victorious march to the 
Capital of Lombardy. In his descent to Piedmont he had 
crossed that great river at Valenza, and he supposed Napo- 
leon would do the same. But the French had crossed the 
Po at Piacenza, fifty miles below, before Beaulieu knew they 



70 NAPOLEON BOX AP ARTE. 

were in motion ; and tiiis hazardous feat had been performed 
without the loss of a man. The Austrian followed him, ir- 
tending to bring him to an engagement, with the Po in his 
rear. But Napoleon forced his march on to Fombio, where 
as the advanced columns met [8th May,] the French carried 
the day at the point of the bayonet. Leaving their cannon 
in the hands of the enemy the Austrians crossed the Adda, 
another large stream behind which Beaulieu gathered his 
forces, posting strong guards at every" ford of the river, 
particularly at the wooden Bridge of Lodi, which by a fatal 
mistake he left standing. But at that place he planted a 
battery of 30 cannon, so arranged that they could sweep 
every plank of the Bridge. 

XXVIII. 

Napoleon came up and resolved to bring on the battle at 
once. While he was making his preparations, he dis- 
patched a heavy body of Cavalry to cross the river by a dis- 
tant ford, and hold themselves in readiness to fall on the 
Austrian rear, while Napoleon charged across the' Bridge. 
He watched anxiously, and at the first sign of their appear- 
ance in the distance, he gave the order to advance, and a 
column of grenadiers rushed on the Bridge mingling their 
shouts of Vive la Republique with the roar of the Austrian can- 
non which were raining grape-shot into their ranks. The 
solid masses of indomitable valor recoiled for a momen 
when they received the storm. But Napoleon and his prin 
cipal officers rushed to their head — ;the French bugles again 
sounded to the charge, and the irresistible tide swept the 
Bridge as the waves sweep the floods of the ocean. Lannes 
was the first man who cleared the Bridge and Napoleon the 
second. The batteries were carried — the men bayoneted at 
their guns, and the on-rushing phalanx plunged into the very 



BULLETIXS OF VICTORY. 71 

heart of the Austrian column. Meantime the French Cav- 
alry were doing their work of death on the rear. Once 
more Beaulieu's army was broken and put to flight. When 
Europe heard of the battle they named the Conqueror " the 
Hero of Lodi." The few men still living who mingled in 
the carnage of that day, never mentioned the name of Lodi 
without a shudder. The Battle of Lodi gave the victor con- 
trol of the home of the Lombard kings, whose massive gates 
flew open four days after for his triumphal entry. He is- 
sued the following order of the day to his men : — 

XXIX. 

" Soldiers ! You have precipitated yourselves like a tor- 
rent from the Appenines. You have overwhelmed or swept 
before you all that opposed your march. Piedmont, deliv- 
ered from Austrian oppression, has returned to her natural 
sentiments of peace and friendship toward France. Milan 
is yours; and over all Lombardy floats the flag of the 
Republic. 

" To your generosity only, do the Dukes of Parma and of 
Modena now owe their political existence. The army which 
proudly threatened you, finds no remaining barrier against 
your courage. The Po, the Tessino, the Adda, could not 
stop you a single day. Those vaunted ramparts of Italy 
proved insufficient ; you traversed them as rapidly as jon 
did the Appenines. Successes so numerous and brilliant 
have carried joy to the heart of your country. Your repre- 
sentatives have decreed a festival to be celebrated in all the 
Communes of the Republic, in honor of your victories. Tlien 
will your fathers, mothers, wives, sisters, all who hold you 
dear, rejoice over your triumphs and boast that you belong 
to them. 

"Yes, Soldiers, you have done much; but much still re 



72 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 

mains for you to do. Shall it be said of us — we know how 
to conquer, but not to profit by victory. Shall posterity re- 
proach us with having found a Capua in Lombardy ? Nay, 
fellow-soldiers ! I hear you already crying, ' to arms V In- 
action fatigues you ; and days lost to glory are to you days 
lost to happiness. Let us then begone ! We have yet many 
forced marches to make ; enemies to vanquish ; laurels to 
gather ; and injuries to avenge. Let those who have sharp- 
ened the poniards of civil war in France, who have pusil- 
lanimously assassinated our Ministers, who have burned our 
vessels at Toulon — let them now tremble! The hour of 
vengeance has sounded ! 

" But let not the people be disquieted. We are the friends 
of every people ; and more especially of the descendants 
of the Brutuses, the Scipios, and other great men, to whom 
we look as bright exemplars. To reestablish the Capital ; 
to place there with honor the statues of the heroes who 
made it memorable ; to rouse the Roman People, unnerved 
by many centuries of oppression — such will be some of the 
fruits of our victories. They will constitute an epoch for 
posterity. To you, Soldiers, will belong the immortal honor 
of redeeming the fairest portions of Europe. The French 
People, free and respected by the whole world, shall give to 
Europe a glorious peace, which shall indemnify it for all the 
sacrifices which it has borne, the last six years. Then by 
your own firesides you shall repose, and your fellow-citizens 
when they point out any one of you, shall say :—^ lie 
belonged to the Army of Italy.' " 

XXX. 

At the end of five days, his columns again started in pur- 
suit of the discomfited Beaulieu, who had fled beyond the 
Mincio, with his left wing resting on the impregnable Castle 



MARSHAL WURMSEE MARCHES TO ITALY. 7S 

of Mantua, " the citadel of Italy," and liis right on the 
Venetian fortress of Peschiera. He had chosen one of the 
strongest positions in Europe. Napoleon forced the passage 
of the Mincio at Borghetta, and Beaulieu was compelled to 
abandon that river and fall back on the Adige. On the day 
of this last victory, Napoleon was surprised by a detach- 
ment of the enemy, and narrowly escaped falling into 
Beaulieu's hands. He now organized a small band of 
chosen men to watch over his person — and these guides 
grew at last into the Imperial Guard of Napoleon. 

The French General had now stripped Austria of all her 
Italian possessions except Mantua, and the tri-color was 
waving from the Tyrol to the Mediterranean. He was now 
in effect master of Italy. 

But the Cabinet of Vienna saw that a more earnest and 
vigorous struggle must be undertaken, or the victor who 
annihilated her Italian army and wrested from her her 
Italian dominions, would soon march into the heart of her 
Empire, and dictate a peace under the walls of her Capitol. 
A new army was therefore drafted from the Austrian forces 
oii the Bhine, and at their head the veteran Marshal Wurm- 
ser, began his march over the Tyrol, to atone for the reverses 
of Beaulieu, on the plains of Italy. ^ 

~ XXXI. 

He had 80,000 of the best troops in the world under liis 
command, and Napoleon had scarcely a third of that num- 
ber. But Wurmser's first movement after fixing his head- 
quarters at Trent was fatal. He divided his magnificent 
army — which, united, Napoleon never could have met — into 
three columns, each of which was successively broken and 
captured. Melas with the left wing, was to march down 
the Adige and expel the French from Verona — Quasdono 



74 NAPOLEOX BOXAPARTE. 

wicli with the right wing, followed the valley of the Chiese, 
toward Brescia, to cut off Napoleon's retreat on Milan, 
while the Marshal himself led on the centre down the left 
shore of Lake Guarda toward the still besieged Castle of 
Mantua. The eye of Napoleon, who had hitherto been 
watching with the intensity of an eagle's gaze all the 
movements of his antagonist, now saw the division of 
Quasdonowich separated from the centre and left wing ; aiid 
he flew to the encounter. But he was obliged to draw off his 
army from the seige of Mantua — which not one general in 
a hundred would have done. On the night of July 31st, he 
buried his cannon in the trenches, and intentionally marked 
his retreat with every sign of precipitation and alarm. But 
a courier could have hardly borne to Quasdonowich the 
news of his raising the siege of Mantua, before Napoleon 
had attacked and overwhelmed him, and he was glad to 
save his shattered forces by falling back on the Tyrol. 

XXXII. 

This ill-omened beginning fired the blood and quickened 
the evolutions of Wurmser, and falling on the rear -guard of 
Massena under Pigeon, and Augereau under Yallette, the 
one shamefully abandoned Castiglione, and the other retired 
on Lonato. These inconsiderable successes were gained by 
good generalship, and the brave Marshal now attempted to 
open his communication with his defeated Lieutenant. His 
column was weakened by extending tha line, and an electric 
movement of Massena regained Lonato, and cut the Mar- 
shal's division in two. The flight of some regimeu'ts, the 
surrender of others, and the confusion of all, left on history 
the Battle of Lonato. 

The brave old German, however, rallied his battalias at 
Castiglione, where Augereau, who was determined to wipe 



DEFEAT OF WURMSER. 75 

out the disgrace of Yallette, achieved a victory so brilliant, 
that Napoleon afterwards created him Duke of Castiglione — 
a lasting souvenir of the gallant achievement. 

The rout of the Austrian army was complete ; its dis- 
comfited columns were flying in all directions toward the 
Mincio, and Napoleon's couriers, mounted on the fleetest 
horses of Lombardy, were riding toward Paris with the 
news of the defeat of another and a larger army of Aus- 
trians, headed by a Marshal of the Empire ! 

XXXIII. 

In the midst of this great campaign, an incident occurred 
on which the fate of Europe for a moment hung. One of 
the flying divisions of Wurmser's army in passing Lonato, 
came up suddenly on Napoleon himself, with no protection 
but his staff and guards. The Austrian officer who went to 
demand a surrender, was taken blindfolded into the presence 
of the Commander-in-Chief. Napoleon saved himself by an 
impromptu stroke. At a secret sign, his staff closed around 
him. The bandage was stripped from the head of the mes- 
senger, and he found himself in the presence of Napoleon. 
" What insolence is this ! Do you even after defeat beard 
the General of France in the midst of his army ?" The 
terrified messenger went back to his Commander, related 
what he had seen, and 4,000 men at once laid down their 
arms, when, had they known the truth, a tithe of the num- 
ber could have captured Napoleon and his officers, and put 
an end to the war. 

XXXI v. 

A detailed history of these achievements occupies the pen 
of the Historian, longer than they did the sword of the 
Conqueror. This campaign against Wurmser lasted but 
seven days. But while it lasted. Napoleon's boots were not 



76 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 

taken off his feet, nor did he sleep one hour at a time I He 
and his army needed repose, and flushed with victory they 
could afford to take it. But he pressed on the rear of his 
enemy, till he had set down before Mantua, dug up his 
buried cannon, and renewed the siege. The old Marshal 
had re-victualed the fortress, and taken refuge within its 
walls. But in one week he had lost his stores, artillery and 
nearly 40,000 men. 

While Napoleon was giving some respite to his wearied 
army, suppressing revolts and conspiracies, and rendering the 
subjugation of Italy complete, Austria was hurrying a new 
army to the relief of its aged, but not disheartened Marshal. 
The reinforcements arrived, and Wurmscr again was in the 
field with an army vastly larger than Napoleon's. But again 
he split his army into divisions, and again each division was 
to be cut to pieces. He marched 30,000 to the relief of 
Mantua, and left Davidowich at Rover edo with 20,000 to 
protect the passes of the Tyrol. 

' XXXY. 

The two Austrian divisions were now separated and their 
fate was sealed. On the 4th September, by the most rapid 
marches Europe had seen, Napoleon reached Roveredo, 
where Davidowich was intrenched in a strong position be- 
fore the city, covered by the guns of the Galliano Castle 
overhanging the town. The camp was yielded before the 
terrific charge of Dubois and his huzzars, and his dying 
words as he fell — " Let me hear the ^hout of victory for the 
Republic before I die" — fired his troops with deeper ardor. 
They drove the Austrians through the town, and carried the 
frowning heights of the Castle at the point of the bayonet 
as they had carried the batteries of Lodi. A town, a castle, 
15 cannon, and 7,000 prisoners ! — We find these items in tlie 



MARSHAL ALYIXZI SENT TO ITALY. 77 

dispatcli of Napoleon on the evening of the Battle op 

ROVEREDO ! 

Wurmser had not recovered from his dismay on the news 
of the overthrow of his Lieutenant, before Napoleon, by a 
march of sixty miles in two days, descended on his Van- 
guard, at Primolano, and cut it to pieces. An hour after 
his army were advancing on Bassano, where [8th Sept.] 
Wurmser made his last stand. After the most heroic resist- 
ance he again fled from the frightful onset of the Repub- 
lican phalanxes. Six thousand Austrians laid down their 
arms — and the hunted Wurmser and his paralyzed army took 
refuge in Mantua, Y/hither they vvere pursued by the eagle- 
cavalry of Napoleon. Again a call was made on Vienna to 
send a new army, and a greater general, to restore the 
Hapsburgh dominion in Italy. 

XXXYI 

Another powerful armament was at once dispatched to 
the Italian frontier, and this fourth campaign against Napo- 
leon was intrusted to the supreme command of Alvinzi, 
another illustrious Marshal of the Empire. In less than 
thirty days from the defeat of Wurmser, this new army had 
met the French. Vaubois and Massena were forced to yield 
to superior numbers. Trent and Bassano were abandoned, 
and even Napoleon had retreated on Verona. Austria 
seemed likely in this campaign to recover her immense 
losses. Again Napoleon had to contend with an enemy 
vastly his superior in numbers, and most completely ap- 
pointed. Tv/clve new battalions only had been sent to hira 
from France to recruit his decimated and exhausted regi- 
ments, and nothing but the exercise of the highest military 
genius could even save him from destruction. His army, 
too, from their recent reverses, no longer displayed their 



78 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 

wonted fire, and his generals began in some measure to dis- 
trust fortune. But the genius of Napoleon rose with the 
occasion and mastered the exigency. The abandonment of 
Galliano by Yaubois had inflamed the indignation, and 
wounded the pride of the Conqueror of Wurmser. He 
ordered Vaubois's division to be drawn up on the plain of 
Rivoli and thus addressed them : — 

" Soldiers ! I am not satisfied with you : You have shown 
neither bravery, discipline, nor perseverance : No position 
could rally you : You abandoned yourselves to a panic- 
terror : You suffered yourselves to be driven from situa- 
tions where a handful of brave men might have stopped an 
army. Soldiers of the 39th and 85th, you are not French 
soldiers. Quartermaster-general, let it be inscribed on 
their colors, * They no longer belong to the army of 
Italy!'" 

XXXVII. 

The effect of these words was overwhelming. The vete- 
ran Grenadiers sobbed like children, and a thousand cheeks 
which had gone unblanched through the carnage of Lodi, 
were wet with tears and burned with shame. They broke 
out from their ranks and clustered around their general, 
trembling under his terrific displeasure. They pleaded once 
more for their arms and their colors— the}^ begged once 
more to be led to battle that they might wipe out the dis- 
grace. Their general forgave them, and when they were 
again unleashed on the enemy they swept him before them 
like a rolling tide of fire. 

But a spirit of discontent pervaded his entire army. 
" We , cannot," said they, " work miracles. We destroyed 
Beaulieu's great army — and then came Wurmser with a 
greater. We conquered and broke him to pieces— and 
then came Alvinzi, more powerful than ever. When wo 



BATTLE OP ARCOLA. 79 

have conquered him, Austria will pour down on us a 
hundred thousand fresh soldiers, and we shall leave our 
bones in Italy." 

Napoleon said : — " Soldiers, we have but one more effort 
to make, and Italy is ours. The enemy is no doubt superior 
to us in numbers, but not in valor. When he is beaten 
Mantua must fall, and we shall remain masters of all ; our 
abors will be at an end ; for not only Italy, but a general 
peace is in Mantua. You talk of returning to the Alps — but 
you are no longer capable of doing so. From the dry and 
frozen bivouacs of those sterile rocks you could very well 
conquer the delicious plains of Louibardy ; but from the 
smiling flowery bivouacs of Italy you cannot return to 
Alpine snows. Only beat Alvinzi and I will answer for 
your future welfare.'' 

XXXVIII. 

There were no more murmurs. The sick and the wounded 
left the hospitals of Milan, Pavia, Bergamo, Brescia, Cre- 
mona, and Lodi, to join the army ; and as they came up, day 
after day — many of them with wounds still bleeding — their 
comrades embraced them, and along the lines of the French 
army rang the shout for battle. 

The French General was now ready, and darting between 
the two Austrian divisions before Alvinzi knew that he had 
left Verona, he ordered Augereau at day-break to carry the 
Bridge of Areola. This movement, even to the intrepid 
lugereau, seemed to be courting annihilation. But he 
jbeyed orders and fought most gallantly. His column 
'however, at last wavered and turned to fly over the corpses 
of nearly half their comrades. One moment now lost would 
have been ruin. Napoleon dashed to tlie head of the col- 
umn, snatched a standard, and cried out to his grenadiers, 



80 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 

" Soldiers ! are you no longer the brave warriors of Lodi ? — 
Follow me." They rushed with him till they grappled 
the Austrian division. But the arrival of a fresh column 
of the enemy rendered it an impossibility to carry the Bridge 
at that moment. The French fell back, and Napoleon was 
himself seized by his grenadiers by the arms and clothes 
and dragged along with them through the smoke^ the dead 
and the dying, and hurled into a morass up to his waist. 
The Austrians were between him and his baffled column— 
the battle was decided, and Napoleon, himself was lost ! 
As the smoke rolled off, the army saw the position of their 
Commander. The grenadiers formed in an instant, and with 
the cry — " Forward, soldiers, to save the Generar — launched 
themselves on the enemy like a bolt of fire. The Austrian 
column melted away, and was rolled from the Bridge — a 
blackened, bleeding ruin. 

Alvinzi's loss was so great it paralyzed his army. He 
had shared the fate of all his predecessors, and like them sent 
to Vienna for reinforcements. The news of the Battle op 
Arcola, [17th November, 1T96], threw France into tran- 
sports of joy, and filled Europe with consternation. 

XXXIX. 

The short interval of fighting, after the day of Areola, 
had been one of ceaseless activity on the part of Napoleon. 
Worn out with the oppression of the Austrian yoke, and 
disgusted with the heartless and hollow mummery of tlie 
priests, the intelligent classes of Italy, greeted the triumphs 
of the French arms with joy, and hailed the day-break of a 
new period of light and advancement. 

Napoleon knew that the Pope had raised his army to 
40,000, and that the King of Naples was ready to unite with 
■him and fall on the French the first moment fortune turned 



THE BATTLE OF RIYOLI. 81 

against them. FiDding a secret combination forming against 
him in every part of Italy, Napoleon no longer hesitated in 
consolidating as far as he could, the civil poAver of France 
in the Peninsula, and in compliance with the wishes of the 
French Party, he organized a Republic for Piedmont and 
another for Lombardy — They immediately made levies of 
money and men for carrying on the campaign. 

XL. 

Marshal Alvinzi had now completed his preparations 
for a fresh campaign, and once more [7th January, 1T9T,] 
at the head of 60,000 soldiers, he descended from the north- 
ern barriers of Italy, to release the brave Wurmser from 
his prison at Mantua, and overwhelm the French invaders. 

It seems incredible, but this Fifth Austrian Army was also 
divided — one column under Alvinzi, for the line of the 
Adige, and another for the Brenta, under General Provera, 
who was to join the Marshal under the walls of Mantua. 
When Napoleon learned this from his head-quarters at 
A^erona, he posted Joubert at Rivoli to dispute Alvinzi's 
passage, and Augereau to watch the movements of Provera — • 
knowing that he could in a few hours concentrate his own 
forces on either column where he could fight to the best ad- 
vantage. An hour after sunset, [13th January], Joubert's 
messenger brought the news that he had met Alvinzi, and 
with difficulty held him in check through the day. Napo- 
leon at once set his column in motion, and by one of his 
lightning marches reached the heights of Rivoli two hours 
after midnight. 

XLI. 

The Austrian army was clearly visible in the moonlight, 
lying in five encampments below. Napoleon determined to 
bring on the battle, before. Alvinzi was ready, and he ac- 



82 NAPOLEON BOXAPARTE. 

complislied his object. His plan was conceived with the 
subtlest and most compreliensive genius, and executed with 
the most consummate skill. From the lofty heights of 
Kivoli he held the fortunes of that decisive day in hands. 
For hours the wave of battle ebbed and flowed only at his 
bidding. The world is familiar with the history of the Bat 
TLE OF RivoLi. Before the sun, which had risen brilliantly 
over one of the most splendid armies of Modern Europe 
Lad reached the zenith, that joyous and confident host had 
been broken and put to flight. 

Before the victory was complete. Napoleon, who had had 
three horses shot under him during the engagement, com- 
mitted the closing scenes of this sanguinary day to Joubert, 
Miirat and Massena ; and having heard during the battle, 
that Provera with his division had already reached the Lake 
Guarda, where he would at once be able to relieve Wurm- 
ser, he mounted a fresh horse, and marching all that night 
and the next day, joined Augereau's division at Mantua, 
carrying with him, to his exulting comrades, the news of 
Rivoli. That night Napoleon explored the ground and 
watched the movements of the enemy. In his rounds he 
found a grenadier-sentinel asleep. He took the gun and 
did the sentiners duty till he woke. When the grenadier 
saw Napoleon he fell on his knees in despair. " Take your 
musket, my friend," said he — "You had a hard march — I 
happened to be awake, and did your duty. Somebody must 
watch, for a moment's inattention now may prove fatal." 

It is not strange that Napoleon's men were ready to die 
for him, as so many of them did, to save his life. 

XLII. 

The next morning the French General brought Provera 
to battle in the suburb of St. George, and forced him to re- 



FALL OF MANTUA* 83 

treat, and old Wurmser who had hazarded a sortie from 
Mantua, was glad to make his way back again, or he would 
have been taken by a detachment led by Napoleon himself. 
Pro vera was cut off hopelessly from Alvinzi, surrounded; 
disheartened and defeated.. He and his 5,000 men laid 
down their arms. General Rene, with 6,000, surrendered — 
the Austrian fugitives, from the Brenta to the Adige fol- 
lowed their example. The magnificent army of Austria 
had, in three days, ceased to exist! 

The campaign ended by the capitulation of Mantua. 
When the gallant old Wurmser was required by the fortunes 
of war to surrender his sword. Napoleon withdrew, to save 
the feelings of the aged chief — Serrurier received it with 
respect. The delicate generosity of the French General 
was never forgotten by the veteran Marshal. The Direc- 
tory complained of Napoleon. In reply he said to them, 
" I granted the Austrians such terms as I thought due to a 
brave and honorable foe, and to the dignity of the French 
nation." 

XLIII. 

This fifth campaign was the most glorious and decisive of 
all. The Austrians had lost in it 30,000 men, sixty stands 
of colors, 500 brass cannon, and an immense quantity of 
military stores. Augereau was dispatched to France with 
the captured standards of Austria, and his arrival in Paris 
was celebrated as a National Festival. 

The defeat of Alvinzi, and the fall of Mantua recalled in 
Rome the terror of the days of Alaric ; for it was supposed 
the Conqueror would soon enter the Eternal City. Victor 
was in fact sent to the South with 8,000 men, half of whom 
were Lombards. The papal troops attempted to arrest his 
progress at Imola, but they were routed, and Faenza was 
carried by the bayonet. General Colli, with 3,000 men, 



81 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 

surrendered, and the French division took possession of 
Ancona. The disgusting tricks and deceptions resorted to 
by the priests, to operate on the minds of the people, were 
exposed. An image of the Holy Yirgin at Ancona, which 
shed tears at the approach of the unholy French, was 
examined, and her tears turned out to be a string of beads 
moved by clock-work ! We abstain from other statements 
of a similar character which degrade their perpetrators, 
without impairing the glory of religion, or robbing human 
nature of its dignity. 

XLIY. 

Of the vast army of Priests who had fled from popular 
rage during the Reign of Terror, many had taken refuge in 
Italy. This class by the thousand trembled at the approach 
of the victorious General of the Republic of Robespierre. 
One of them in his despair surrendered himself to Napo- 
leon, and begged that as his fate was sealed, he might be 
executed at once. " Why, Father," said Napoleon, *' don't 
be in a fret to die — you may do much good yet — you will 
have, at all events, a fine chance to, before we kill you — Be 
re-assured ; no harm will come to the ministers of religion." 
And he at once published a proclamation to that effect. 

The Pope sent an Envoy to Napoleon, who received him 
with great respBct, and the Treaty of Tolentino [12th Feb., 
1797,] was signed, conceding to the French a hundred of the 
finest works of art, the Castles and Legations of Ferrara, 
An"cona, Romagna, and Bologna, the ancient papal possession 
of Avignon in France, and about two millions of dollars. 
Tuscany had of course yielded to the terms dictated, and 
Naples foreseeing her doom was ready to submit to the 
Conqueror. 



THE ARCH-DUKE CHARLES. 85 

XLV. 

Napoleon now turned towards the North. YeDice, an 
ancient Republic, still cherished her pride and no small 
portion of her power ; and she had 50,000 men to bring 
into the field against Napoleon. But the Doge assured Na- 
poleon, that his State would preserve neutrality. " Let the 
neutrality then," said the French General, " be entire and 
sincere, or the independence of Yenice shall cease to exist." 
Leaving a few garrisons to watch Venice, Napoleon turned 
his face towards the Tyrol, and reinforced by 20,000 men 
from France, prepared to encounter another formidable 
Austrian army, under a new and more brilliant commander. 

XLYI. 

The Arch-Duke Charles, the last great man the Haps- 
burgh race has produced, had already won the fame of an 
accomplished general on the Rhine, where he had defeated 
Moreau and Jourdan, who had no equals in the French 
army but Napoleon. This heroic young prince and enlight- 
ened statesman, had heard with mortification of the over- 
throw of five great armies in Italy, during his own victorious 
campaign on the Rhine, and he longed to try his strength 
with the terrible foe of his house. He set out from the 
palace of his fathers with the sixth and best army Austria 
could enroll, to retrieve the honor of the. arms of his country, 
and restore the lost Italian jewels to the crown of Rudolph. 
The two young generals met on the Taliamento where the 
struggle began, [March 12, 1797], with i\iQ capture of 5,000 
Austrian prisoners and the retreat of the Arch-Duke. The 
rivals met and fought ten times in twenty days. At last 
Charles found his army melting away like the snows of the 
Tyrol, and he turned his face towards Vienna, resolved to 
make a final stand against his Qntagonist under the walls of 



B$ NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 

the Austrian Capital. Terror-stricken when they heard that 
Napoleon had stormed the passes of the Julian Alps, the 
Royal family — embracing little Maria Louisa, then six years 
old, afterwards Napoleon's wife — fled with their crown 
jewels and treasures into Hungaryj that loyal and generous 
ally of the Hapsburgh crown. 

XL VII. 

Napoleon now addressed a frank letter to Charles, pro- 
posing negotiations for peace, which was calculated to pro- 
duce an effect, since he appealed to him as a brother-soldier 
who knew the horrors of war, and the writer wrote from 
the scene of a late victory. The Arch-Duke entered into 
negotiations, and the Provisional Treaty of Leoben was 
signed April 18, 1797. 

Meantime the Yenitian Senate, believing that the dauger 
was past, had violated their pledge of neutrality, by de- 
claring war against France, and instigated the Veronese to 
massacre the wounded French soldiers in their hospitals. 
In other places the same atrocious butcheries were- perpe- 
trated. Venice invested most of the towns where Na- 
poleon's troops were garrisoned — and cut off his supplies 
for his main army. But the hour of vengeance was ap- 
proaching, and if anything could hasten Napoleon to make 
good his threat to extinguish the independence of Venice, 
it was the brutal butchery of his Lodi and Areola heroes. 
His victorious legions had heard of the fate of their helpless 
comrades from the lips of Napoleon ; and when his bugles 
sounded the return from the Tyrol, they swept down on the 
Queen of the Adriatic like an Alpine storm. 



HUMILIATION OF VENICE. 87 

XLYIII. 

After the cowardly massacre of the wounded grenadiers 
of France, the Doge and his Senate trembled at every ar- 
rival of news from the North ; bat when they heard of 
the Treaty of Leoben, they were plunged in despair. They 
dispatched messengers to meet the Conqueror, but they were 
sent back with this answer : — " You have perfidiously mur- 
dered my brave men in their beds. If you held the treasures 
of Peru in your hands, and could cover your dominions with 
gold, you could not buy your ransom. The Lion of St. 
Mark [the arms of Venice] must lick the dust." 

An English historian has said in speaking of the result : — 
*' These tidings came like a sentence of death on the devoted 
Senate. Their deliberations were unceasing ; their schemes 
innumerable ; their hearts divided and unnerved. Those 
secret chambers, from which that haughty Oligarchy had 
for so many ages excluded every eye, and every voice, but 
their own, were invaded by strange-faced men, who boldly 
criticised their measures, and heaped new terrors on their 
heads, by announcing that the mass of the people had 
ceased to consider the endurance of their sway as synony- 
mous with the prosperity of Venice. Popular tumults filled 
the streets and canals ; universal confusion prevailed. The 
commanders of their troops and fleets received contradictory 
orders, and the city seemed ready to yield everything with- 
out striking a blow." 

XLIX. 

On the 31st May his soldiers had entered the city, and 
the Senate sent their unconditional submission. He called 
for the murderers who had instigated the butchery of his 
soldiers — they were delivered up. The Senate were deposed, 
aiid the power given to the people. Napoleon asked, and 



88 NAPOLEON BOXAPARTE. 

Venice gave §600,000 in gold, and tlie same amount in 
Naval stores ; five ships of war ; twenty works of Art, and 
five hundred MSS. Napoleon took possession of the city, 
and the history of the Venitian Republic was ended. A silly 
attempt was made to corrupt Napoleon by a tender of seven 
million francs from Yenice — as Austria had offered a vastly 
larger sum and a Principality. To such proposals,, (and he 
received them often,) he had but one answer — " If I become 
rich or great, it must come from France."' 

Yenice offered Napoleon something meaner than a bribe — 
the person and papers of Count D'Entraigues, a French 
agent of the Bourbons. It was thus proved that Pichegru, 
the French General, who had conquered Holland, had be- 
trayed the cause of the Republic to the Bourbons ; and this 
information he sent to the Directory. Pichegru was exiled. 

Yenice humbled and her heavy tribute paid, Napoleon 
marched on the ancient and opulent city of Genoa, estab- 
lished the New Ligurian Republic, and then took, up his 
quarters in the palace of Montibello in the neigborhood of 
Milan, whither he had the satisfaction a few days after, of 
greeting Josephine, whom he passionately loved, and whom 
he had not seen since his departure from France a year 
before. 

L. 

Napoleon was now in the bloom and splendor of his life ; 
and although for many subsequent years he seemed to mounfc 
higher at every step on the road to glory, yet his biogra 
pher pauses a moment at the Palace of Montibello to con 
template the young Conqueror of Italy, the Pacificator of 
Europe— the Creator of Republics — the Founder of Institu- 
tions — the husband of Josephine. His position was sublime. 
He had finished the most brilliant campaign recorded in 
History. He had emancipated the most beautiful land on 



NAPOLEON AND JOSEPHINE AT MILAN. 89 

tlie cartli, from the despotism of the most loatlisome race of 
tyrants. He had taught emperors and kings, who liad made 
war on the French Republic, the great principle of llie 
right of nations to govern themselves. lie had made 
despots respect and fear a Republic. He had shaken to its 
foundations the hoary structure of Feudalism, and opened 
an age of advancement to mankind. 

LI. 

The Palace of Montibello — a venerable and magnificent 
structure — now presented a beautiful spectacle. In the 
apartments of Napoleon, in one wing of the classic pile, all 
was activity — investigation — diplomacy — earnest, intense 
work — universal progress. No roads had been built in 
Italy since the Romans — Napoleon projected them through 
every part of the Peninsula. He conceived a broad road 
from Paris to Geneva, and from Geneva to Milan, over the 
Simplon, thus bringing Italy into direct communication with 
France, and Northern and Western Europe. He projected 
canals, bridges, harbors, arsenals, hospitals and institutions 
of learning, art and science. He called around him a uni- 
versity of scholars, philosophers, artists, engineers and 
statesmen. His couriers, agents and lieutenants, were flying 
In every direction to carry his messages and execute his 
orders. His schemes of progress embraced every field of 
science and art, and every interest of commerce, agriculture 
and industry. They, moreover, comprehended the advance- 
ment of the great mass of the Italians, in intelligence, 
wealth, political and personal independence. His compre- 
hension also embraced the policy and fortunes of other 
nations. To show how profoundly he had contemplated the 
position and strength of the only foe 4;hat never has yielded 
to France — England — he thus wrote to the Directory : — 



90 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 

" From these different points, [the Islands of the Mediter 
ranean which he proposed to seize,] we can command that 
Sea, keep an eye on the Ottoman Empire, which is crumbling 
to pieces, and we can render the supremacy of the ocean 
almost useless to Great Britain. Let us take possession of 
Egypt, which lies on the road to India, and there we can 
found one of the mightiest colonies in the world. It is in 
Egypt we must make war on England." 

LII. 

While these great schemes of science and government, 
whose execution was to reflect so much lustre on his name^, 
and change so materially the condition of mankind, were 
springing into existence in one wing of the majestic pile of 
Montibello ; the superb salons of the other were flashing 
with the beauty and wit of the most entrancing women of 
Italy, from whose magic centre shone the peerless wife of 
the youthful Conqueror. Learned and gallant men, high- 
bred and beautiful ladies, artists of fame and poets of genius 
illuminated her halls, and bent in homage and admiration 
before that unrivaled woman. Her loveliness of person, 
and blandness of manner ; her tact for society, and genius 
for conversation ; her amazing intelligence, and earnestness 
of sympathy ; and above all, the courtly grace with which 
she yielded to more than queenly honors, gave to her nightly 
soirees among the polished Italians, the title of the Court 
of Montibello, and they eclipsed every court in Europe. 
Every body who came near Josephine — if it were only to 
serve her — loved her. Napoleon gave one hour a day to 
the blandishments of Josephine's drawing-rooms, where he 
always found her encircled by a waving crowd of wor- 
shipers. On one occasion, when he had joined that circle 
without attracting one of the countless eyes fixed on his 



TREATY OF CAMPO FORMIO. 91 

wife, he gayly said, " I only subdue provinces ; Josephine 
conquers hearts." 

LIII. 

The day came for the Treaty with A.ustria, and Napoleon 
met her four negotiators at the humble village of Campo 
Formio. They attempted to impose conditions which no 
one of the Generals he had vanquished would have dreamed 
of. Napoleon instantly rejected th*em. They endeavored 
to intimidate him by the threat of an alliance of Russia and 
the aid of the Cossacks. Napoleon sat silent a moment — 
then rising, took from the buffet a porcelain vase — " Mes-. 
sieurs," he said, as he lifted the vase, " the truce is broken ; 
war is declared. In three months I will dismember your 
Empire as I now shatter this vase," — and the porcelain flew 
into a thousand pieces. The enraged General left the room, 
and dispatched an officer to the Arch-Duke Charles to 
announce that he should begin his march on Vienna in 
twenty-four hours. He ordered his carriage, and flew to the 
head-quarters of the army. But he was soon joined by a 
messenger from the negotiators acceding to his terms. In 
a few hours the Treaty of Campo Formio was signed, [3d 
Oct., 1797]. It extended the borders of France to the 
Rhine — and recognized the Cisalpine Republic of Lombardy 
and Piedmont. Napoleon gave up perfidious Venice to 
Austria, and under her yoke it groans to this hour. 

LIV. 

The victories of Napoleon had aff'ected the political for 
tunes of every State in Europe, and a Congress of the Ger 
man powers was called at Rastadt, to arrange definitively 
all the conditions of a general Peace. The Directory could 
send no one but Napoleon to act as the Ambassador of 
France, and he was commissioned to proceed to Rastadt. 



92 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 

His farewell to the army, and the affecting scenes which 
attended it ; his inspiring and noble councils to the Repub- 
lic of Lombardy ; the tokens of admiration, gratitude and 
love, the Italians poured in upon him as he left them ; his 
journey through Switzerland to Rastadt, which was one con- 
tinued triumph ; his reception by the representatives of the 
German States — We must leave all these and a thousand 
other passages in the life of Napoleon to the History of 
Modern Europe. 

LV. 

But the Conqueror of Italy soon grew tired of the dull de- 
tails of diplomatic technicalities, and, leaving them to the 
more patient care of his colleagues, set out in two days for 
Paris. There were many reasons why he should lose no 
time in returning to his adopted country. During his 
absence he had been the salvation of France. He had com- 
pelled Europe to give up the old principle of intervention, 
and let France govern herself as she pleased. He had made 
fifty sovereigns recognize a Republic. And he had done 
something greater and better than this for the French Na- 
tion — he had given internal peace and domestic tranquillity 
to a land torn by faction and deluged by blood. The feeble 
and corrupt Directory who governed in. Paris would have 
long before been overthrown, had it not been sustained by 
his victories. The men who composed it, jealous of Jii:^ 
rising fame, had interposed every obstacle to his victorioua 
career in Italy, and would have recalled him from his con 
quests had they dared to brave the indignation of the peo- 
ple. But the Directory had sunk into contempt, and Napo- 
leon knew that France was waiting for his return. 

When he withdrew from the Congress of Rastadt he laid 
aside all the insignia of rank and power ; and in the dress 



HIS RETURN TO PARIS. 93 

of a private citizen returned to Paris, where he took up his 
residence with Josephine in the humble lodgings the}' had 
occupied before he set out for Italy. He walked the streets 
and mingled with the people in his citizen's dress, without 
attracting observation, and had been a day or two in Paris 
oefore it was generally known that he had returned. 

LYI. 

But when it was known that he had returned, the city 
was filled with enthusiasm, and the curiosity to see Napo- 
leon was intense. The most distinguished persons in the 
Capital, went to pay their homage to the man who had 
achieved so much for his country. But with great modesty, 
dignity and good sense, he evaded every species of display, 
and sinking the Conqueror in the Citizen, revealed another 
attribute of greatness that excited still higher admiration. 
Another significant fact should be mentioned, since it indi- 
cates a striking trait in his character. He continued to 
employ the same tradesmen and artisans, who had worked 
for him in his poorer and humbler days. Having obtained 
from a silversmith, just as he was starting for Italy, credit 
for a dressing-case at a cost of $250 he remained through 
life the friend of the person who had obliged him, and 
by his favor, he became one of the most opulent citizens 
in Paris. But at no period did he ever employ in any ser- 
vice a man without talent. Every other consideration was 
made to give way to this. However obscure may have been 
a man's birth, the ability and disposition to execute any 
commission in a superior manner, always entitled him to the 
favor of Napoleon. 

LYI. 

This fact is worthy of being mentioned in the history of 
any great man ; more especially such a maji as Napoleon. 



94 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 

The anciene iwhlesse had been overthrown ; but Paris could 
not live vvithout a tribunal of taste and fashion. It had 
been erected on the fall of Robespierre by the women of 
beauty and the men of wit of the Republic. It was perhaps 
more imperious and exacting than that of the Bourbons 
— far more vulgar, and at least equally heartless and 
corrupt. 

Every attempt, however, to inthrall Napoleon by the 
blandishments of elegant dissipation was unavailing. He 
would not be shown. His whole history proves that he 
cared little about the popularity of the hour. He despised 
the homage of the mob. His mind on this subject, is indi- 
cated by a reply he once made to a favorite Marshal, when 
congratulated on a public demonstration by the people — 
" Bah !" said he, " What is fame ! — A great noise. They 
would shout just as loud if they saw me going to tlie 
guillotine." 

The Directory were by no means anxious to add new 
splendor to the reputation of a man whose glory had long 
oppressed them ; but Paris felt that his unparalleled -achieve- 
ments called for some public signs of the gratitude of the 
nation, and Napoleon was invited to deliver the Treaty of 
Campo Formio to the Government, in the presence of the 
chief personages of the State, and the citizens of Paris. 

LYII. 

This imposing ceremony took place In the Court of the 
Louxembourg, under a canopy of standards and banners 
captured in the Italian campaign. When the young Con- 
queror appeared, followed by his band of heroic generals, 
and the vast assembly caught — many of them for the first 
time — a sight of the victor, they could scarcely believe their 
senseK. That slender, boyish form, and that lean, bronze, 



DELIVERY OF THE TREATY. 95 

impassive face, would not have seemed to belong to the 
Conqueror of Beaulieu, Wurmser, Alvinzi, and the Arch- 
Duke Charles, had not the invincible soldier bespoke him at 
every step. 

The wild cry of the assembly broke forth, and poured 
down upon his uncovered head like the storm of the battle- 
field. He bent to it as he bowed to no other storm, and his 
slight frame trembled to the shock. When he had re- 
covered his self-possession he said to the Directory : — 

" To achieve their freedom the French people had to fight 
allied kings ; and to win a Constitution founded on reason, 
they had. to combat the prejudices of eighteen Centuries. 
Superstition, the Feudal system, and Despotism have succes- 
sively governed Europe for twenty ages ; but the era of 
representative governments may be dated from the Peace 
you have concluded. You have accomplished the organiza- 
tion of the Great Nation, whose vast territories are bounded 
only by the limits nature herself has interposed. I present 
you the Treaty of Campo Formio, ratified by the Emperor, 
This peace secures the liberty, prosperity and glory of the 
Republic. When the happiness of the French People shall 
be established upon the best founded laws, all Europe Avill 
be free." 

Such a scene as this must, in any nation or in any as- 
sembly, have wrought up the feelings of the spectators to 
the intensest enthusiasm, but among so mercurial a people as 
the Parisians, the language which we employ in describing 
the emotions of other men fails in graphicness and power. 
Barras, the presiding director, said, in reply to Napoleon s 
terse and patriotic words — " Nature has exhausted all her 
powers in the creation of Bonaparte." 



96 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 



LVIIT. 

Tlio honors of the Frencli Institute have never been 
cheapened by bestowment upon men who were the favorites 
only of rank or fortune. There are but so many places to 
be filled, and when the exile and the supposed death of 
Carnot had made an opening, Napoleon was unanimously 
elected to fill the place. His reception by the Institute was 
the highest tribute ever paid to his genius. Seldom have 
the honors of that great Institution been conferred upon a 
man so young, and never where they were received with 
greater modesty, or had been more nobly won. From, this 
time he devoted all his leisure to the profoundest studies, and 
intimate intercourse with the illustrious savans of Paris. 
Those who were most intimate with him were most surprised 
at the extent of his knowledge, and the intensity of his 
philosophical investigations. Assuming no importance as a 
military chieftain, and throwing aside altogether the trap- 
pings and livery of war, he appeared only in the simple 
dress of the members of the Institute ; thus displaying what 
he at all times felt, how much worthier science and learning 
are of the homage of men than mere military glory. 

Thus passed a few months of repose from the fatigues of 
his campaigns. He allowed the feeble and incompetent 
Directory to take its downward course, knowing that the 
time was not far distant when he would be called by the 
unanimous voice of the French people to preside over tho 
nation. To those who may think that we are disposed to 
exaggerate the political foresight of Napoleon, we wil 
merely refer to his letters and conversations at this period, 
which will show that he not only felt the clearest presenti- 
ment of his future elevation, but that his subsequent course 
was decided more eminently than that of almost any other 



THE EXPEDITION TO EGYPT. 07 

illustrious man, by the settled purposes of his own indomita- 
ble will. 

LIX. 

Immediately after the termination of Napoleon's cam- 
paign in Italy, when couriers were no longer flying daily 
over the great roads to Paris with the bulletins of fresh 
victories, the Directory hit upon a new scheme of conquest 
— the invasion of England. Such was the military fame of 
!N"apoleon they could not have intrusted the conduct of this 
enterprise to any other man, and he had now for several 
months been indicated by the Directory as the leader of this 
undertaking.. When the preliminary preparations had all 
been made, Napoleon left for the seaboard, to consummate 
the undertaking, ife carefully inspected the fortifications 
and naval resources along the French coasts, from the British 
(channel around to Bordeaux ; he became as thoroughly ac- 
quainted with the naval resources of Great Britain as any 
Englishman in her service ; he conceived many important 
improvements which from that time began to be carried out, 
and some of which have been only recently perfected under 
the government of his nephew ; he calmly contemplated the 
plan conceived by the Directory ; he weighed in the balances 
of an enlightened judgment the results that would probably 
attend the undertaking, and he at last came to the conclu 
sion that the whole plan of the Directory of an invasion of 
Ens^land was a wild chimera, and he resolved to defeat it. 

He returned to Paris and made his views known to the 
Directory, who offered no effectual resistance to his de- 
cisions. He, moreover, recalled a suggestion he had made 
to them from Italy, which had doubtless almost entirely 
escaped their observation, of making Egypt the theatre of a 
decisive conflict with England. He at once proposed the 
Expedition to Egypt, and it was decided on without delay 



98 KAPOLEOIT BON-APAETE. 

by the Directory. The necessity of secrecy was so great, 
every man connected with the execution of the scheme 
^cted with the greatest discretion. Everywhere throughout 
^France the military and naval preparations were increased, 
nevv* men were levied for the campaign, new vessels were 
launched at the ports and arsenals ; and the cities and vil- 
lages of France everywhere resounded with the clangor of 
preparation. The intensest excitement pervaded France. 
Europe itself was occupied only Avith the idea of the inva- 
sion of England by the Conqueror of Italy, and the southern 
coast of that sea-girt Island was blackened with men who 
rushed tumultuously to make a bulwark against a foreign 

invasion. 

LX. 

In the meantime Napoleon had completed his scheme 
f«)r the Expedition to Egypt. He had organized the most 
c-fScient scientific corps that had ever been seen. There was 
uot a book, nor an instrument of science, or investigation — 
there was not an agency for the advancement of mankind in 
knowledge, that he had not already brought under his 
control. One or two of the guiding spirits of the French 
Institute were in his confidence, and all that Institution 
could furnish was placed at his disposal. The ultimate^ suc- 
cess of the Expedition to Egypt may be attributed, in some 
/icgree at least, to the fact that England had been concen- 
trating her maratime resources on her owm coast to repel 
the invasion. This is precisely what Napoleon intended, for 
while England was profoundly ignorant of the point wher 
Napoleon intended to strike, he was himself consummatini 
Ills plan. 

At last, when his preparations were complete, and he had 
concentrated all the forces he wished on the southern coast 
of France, he started for Toulon. A few hours afterward 



EMBARKATION FOR EGYPT. 99 

he reviewed liis exulting soldiers, and said — " Rome fonglit 
Carthage on the sea as well as on the land. England is the 
Carthage of France. I have come to lead you in the name 
of the Divinity of Liberty across mighty seas, and into dis- 
tant regions, where your valor may achieve such life and 
glory as will never await you beneath the cold skies of the 
west. Prepare yourselves, soldiers, to embark under the 
tri-color, for achievements far more glorious than you have 
won for your country on the blushing plains of Italy." 

LXI. 

It was known that Nelson, the Neptune of the seas, was 
in the Mediterranean with a powerful fleet, which had been 
seen hanging off Toulon for many days ; but a wild tempest 
from the Alps had swept down and driven his vessels far out 
to sea. It had scarcely passed, before Napoleon gave tlie 
order for the embarkation of all his troops, and the pre- 
paration for the voyage. 

Many a great enterprise has been conceived and carried 
out on the Mediterranean. Its waters have been plowed by 
the triumphant keels of many a conqueror, but history gives 
no traces of such an expedition as this. The embarkation 
had been conducted with the rapidity which characterized 
all the military movements of Napoleon, and it was con- 
summated at day-break the first fair day after the storm. 

The signal was given by the orders of Napoleon from the 
AdmiraPs vessel, and immediately the whole fleet weighed 
anchor, and put out into the open sea. Thirteen immense 
line-of-battle ships, fourteen frigates, and four hundred 
transports carrying forty thousand picked soldiers, generaled 
by officers whose names had already become immortal on 
the scrolls of chivalry, unfolded as they rode out to sea, and 
when the sun came up over the Mediterranean it shone upon 



100 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 

the vast armament extending twenty miles. On the passage. 
Napoleon was reinforced by the division of the French 
army in Italy, under the command of General Dessaix. Tlie 
Heavens themselves seemed to smile upon the expedition, 
and on the 10th of June it appeared before Malta. That 
impregnable rock which had for ages been held by the 
renowned Knights of St. John, scarcely attempted to resist 
the progress of Napoleon, and from the battlements of their 
fortifications he saw the flag of welcome streaming. He 
halted at Malta long enough only to raise the French flag, 
and leave a garrison of soldiers, and the fleet was again 
signaled towards the East. 

LXIl. 

Nelson, who had heard of the embarkation of the arma- 
ment from Toulon, had now been several days scouring the 
Mediterranean in search of his foe ; but he was foiled by 
the genius of Napoleon, and the fortune which presided over 
his destiny. In the midst of a violent gale, the expedition 
landed at the mouth of the Nile, and in a few hoursliis army 
was within the walls of the city that had been founded by 
Alexander. The following Greneral Order had been pub- 
lished to the army before debarkation : — " The people we 
are now to associate with are Mohamedans ; the first article 
of their faith is ' there is but one God, and Mohammed is his 
Prophet.' Do not contradict them : treat them as you have 
the Jews and the Italians : respect their muftis and imans. 
The Roman Legions protected all religions. This people 
treat their women differently from us ; but in all countries 
the violator is a monster : pillage enriches only a few. It 
dishonors us, destroys our resources, and makes those ene- 
jiies whom we ought to gain as friends." 

The following was published to the people of Egypt :— 



MARCH TO THE PYRAMIDS. lOt 

" You will be told that I come to make war on jour religion ; 
but believe it not. Say that I am come to restore your 
rights ; to punish the usurpers ; and that I respect God, his 
Prophet, and the Koran, more than they were ever respected 
by the Mamelukes. * * * * Woe to them that take 
uj) arms for the Mamelukes ; — they shall perish." 

LXIII. 

Egypt was then a province of the Ottoman Empire, and 
Turkey was at peace with France ; but Egypt was groaning 
under the despotism of the Mamelukes. This body of men 
which was -recruited entirely from boys taken captive in 
Europe, had acquired the control of Egypt, and they obeyed 
none but their own twenty-four chiefs, each of whom ruled 
over his own separate district. Napoleon considered them 
the finest cavalry in the world. Armed with the best in- 
struments of warfare that could be manufactured, and 
mounted upon the fleetest and noblest Arabian horses, their 
charge had till that time been irresistible. 

He remained but a short time in Alexandria, and [July 
7th, 1798,] passed out from the gates of that city, resolved 
to bring the Mamelukes to an engagement. His march over 
the desert towards the pyramids, exhausted the vigor of his 
army, and his Lodi heroes melted under the burning African 
sun. The array was filled with murmuring and was on the 
verge of mutiny. But, says an English writer, " Napoleon 
altered nothing ; wore his uniform buttoned up as at Paris; 
never showed one bead of sweat on his brow ; nor thought 
of repose except to lie down in his cloak, the last at night, 
and start up the first in the morning. It required, however, 
all tliat this example of endurance and the influence of 
character could do, to prevent the army from breaking into 
.*.peu mutiny.'' 



102 ITAPOLEON BONAPARTE 

For fourteen days, this vast army rnarcLed over the 
burning sands of the desert, till the 21st of July, AA^hen their 
eyes were gladdened by a sight of the pyramids. As they 
rose on a gentle eminence, and gained a fall view of the^(» 
hoary structures of antiquity, rising in solemn majesty over 
eternal desolations, they saw the camp of the army of the 
Mamelukes. As he had treated the Marshals of Austria, 
so did Napoleon deal with the Mamelukes of the Nile. 
With a small staff he rode towards the camp of the enemy 
lo reconnoitre for himself. With his glass he saw the bat- 
teries of the Beys, and by a closer inspection perceived that 
their guns were without carriages, and consequently could 
be leveled only in one direction. He rode back to the 
army, resolved to bring on the battle at once. 

LXIV. 

Monrad Bey, the gallant commander of the Mameluke 
ho^'t, v/ho had for some days been impatiently awaiting a 
sight of the dreaded Commander of Europe, drew up his 
army for battle, and shoAved himself quite as ready as his 
antagonist for the encounter. Riding by his battalions, 
AA^hich had been formed into separate compact squares, 
Napoleon said — *' Soldiers, from the summits of yonder 
pyramids forty centuries are looking on you.'' The infantry 
of Mourad Bey was noAV marching rapidly doAvn upon the 
French, and tlieir cavalry was SAveeping round them on.both 
Avings like the simoom of the desert. They brought AA^th 
them to the charge clouds of dust, and made the desert rinf^ 
with their terrific Avar-cries as they bore doAvn on their foes. 
Tlieir charge had been irresistible AA^ierever ihcy had oi)- 
countered human power ; but Avhen they met the French 
columns they dashed against a solid battlement of £lccl, 
The French squares received them upon a gleaming from of 



THE BATTLE OF THE PYRAMIDS. 103 

bayonets. Their wounded horses reared and turned back- 
ward. A<yain they were urged to the encounter, and again 
they fell back, pouring the blood out of their bosoms. To 
and fro, squadron after squadron swayed before the un- 
wavering French battalions. The Mameluke horsemen, 
wild with fury, drove their horses on, discharged their fire- 
arms, and in their desperation hurled their pistols into the 
faces of the French, and again retreated. At last the 
charge had been so often made and so often repelled, and 
the fire of the French had been so sure and deadly, that be- 
fore them lay a bleeding barricade of Mameluke cavalry — 
itself a protection against their enemy ; and behind this 
rampart, still stood the unbroken columns of Napoleon. 

LXY. 

For the first time the charge of the Mamelukes had 
proved unavailing. The Cavalry of the Desert had recoiled 
from the chivalry of Europe. Napoleon saw their discom- 
fiture, and seized the moment of victory. His bugles sounded 
the charge, and he led his battalions upon the main body 
of the Egyptian army. They drove them from the camp — 
vast multitudes were swept into the Nile — thousands were 
left bleeding on the sand, and the rest fled in dismay over 
the Desert. Such was the Battle of the Pyramids. 

It left Napoleon master of Lower Egypt, and wherever 
the flying Mamelukes were carried on their fleet horses, 
they spread only the terrible bulletin — "Sultan Kebir" — 
[King of Fire]. Under the shadow of the pyramids, 
Napoleon's soldiers rifled the bodies of the slain. They 
swam into the Nile, and caught the turbans that were float- 
ing on its waters flashing with jewels, and many a single 
corpse made a French soldier rich for life. It was the cus- 
tom of the Mamelukes to carry their treasures with them on 



104 KAPOLEOIT BONAPAKTE. 

their bodies when they went to battle, and every Mameluke 
that fell added to the spoils of the victors. But before the 
fallen Mamelukes had yielded up their treasures with their 
blood, one hundred of Napoleon's savans, fired by a thirst 
for science as quenchless as the victorious soldier for his 
spoils, had scaled the dizzy heights of the pyramids, and 
were pressing for admission at the sepulchre of tlie 
Pharaohs. The empire of science was spreading as rapidly 
lis the dominion of France. A messenger from Monge, the 
chief of those university-exploring savans, announced to 
Napoleon that the secret-chamber of the great pyramid was 
opened, and awaiting his entrance. Threading the laby- 
rinths by the torches of his guides, he crossed the strange 
threshold, and stood uncovered in the presence of the dust 
of one of the dynasties of antiquity. " There is no God but 
God," said Napoleon, " and Mohammed is his Prophet." 
Two or three learned Saracens who had attended him, 
answered with solemnity and half-disguised sarcasm, " Thou 
hast spoken like the greatest of the Prophets, but God is 
mercifulJ' 

The invincible soldiery of Napoleon, enriched by the 
battle-plain of the pyramids, took up their quarters in 
Cairo, and forgot the toils of the campaign, in the luxuries 
of the deserted harems of the dead Mamelukes. 

LXVI. 

Ten days after the battle of the pyramids, Nelson, who had 
been scouring the Mediterranean in search of the enemy, at 
last discovered the hostile fleet in the Bay of Aboukir. He 
at once bore down upon it and brought the French admiral 
to an engagement. For more than twenty hours, with no 
interruption except when the Orient, a hundred-and-twenty- 
gun ship, caught fire and blew up with a terrific explosion, 



nelson's yictory at aboukir. lO.S 

the conflict lasted. The French fleet was utterly destroyed, 
and Napoleon, with fifty thousand men, and two thousand 
miles from the French coast, was left without the means of 
return. All his communication with France was cut cff. 
Month after month passed by, without bringing with it asy 
intelligence of the political state of the country. The 
immense calamity which the French General had suff'ered, 
caused but a temporary depression of feeling. He at once 
proceeded to organize a better government and state of 
society than Egypt had had for centuries. Guided by th« 
most scientific men in the world, and with a material force 
for the accomplishment of almost any purpose, the monu- 
nents of Egypt were ransacked to their foundations. Canals 
Jiat had been closjed for ages, were once more opened, and 
the waters of the Nile again flowed where they had been 
first directed by the genius and the labors of the Pharaohs. 
Egypt was now bristling with activity. Science was ex- 
ploring the entombed history of a great nation, and the 
Egyptians began to enter upon a. career of improvement 
which continues to the present time. 

LXYII. 

The principal object of the expedition to Egypt had, 
however, been defeated. It was the overthrow of the power 
of England in the East. Had not the French fleet been 
destroyed, it could have blockaded if not taken Constanti- 
nople, and Napoleon would have marched on the Euphrates. 
He had acquired by his victories and administration, such 
fame and influence over the Oriental nations, it was not 
doubted that at least a hundred thousand Moslems, who 
were looking forward upon an age of progress, would have 
joined the French army ; and with the Mamelukes, the 
Arabs of the desert the Druces of Mpunt Lebanon, the 



106 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 

Christians and tlie Sheiks of Azor, Napoleon would have 
had a force sufficient to revolutionize Asm, and prostrate 
the English dominion on that continent. It is impossible to 
conceive, much less to calculate with probability the conse- 
quences, that would have attended a triumphant march from 
the Nile to the Ganges. The inscrutable purposes of the 
xllmighty are unfolded slowly to the comprehension of men ; 
but at this period, those who understood the vast conception 
of Napoleon, thought they saw the hand of Providence 
shaping out new destinies for the six hundred millions of 
Asia. If those stupendous and hoary structures of govern- 
ment and superstition, which have for ages overshadowed 
that continent, are finally to give way to the light of Chris- 
tian civilization, it would seem probable that it would be 
achieved by some man like Napoleon, who, by an electric 
stroke, would shiver these immense fabrics to pieces. 

LXVIII. 

But another fatal circumstance occurred to defeat the 
lofty conception of Napoleon. It was understood that the 
Directory would bring all its force to sustain the Rebellion 
in Ireland, and thus divert, as far as possible, the military 
power of England from the conflict with France. But the 
treachery or incompetency of the Directory, and their coun- 
ter-order for the Irish expedition, made the destruction of 
the French fleet a still greater calamity^ 

England had also succeeded in getting the Sublime Porta 
to proclaim war against Franco, and two powerful Turkish 
armies with all the aids of Lord Nelson's fleet, were assem- 
bling at Rhodes, and in Syria, to attack Napoleon in Egy]}t. 
Forty pieces of artillery and twelve hundred gunners had 
been concentrated at Jaffa; and at Gaza stores had been 
collected and preparations made to enable sixty thousand 



HIS VICTORIES IX SYRIA. 107 

men to march over the Desert. To remain where he was 
would have been fatal ; and again the French Commander 
not only extricated himself from imminent peril by a rapid 
and unexpected movement, but he achieved some of the 
nost brilliant victories of his life. 

While those two armies were preparing to assail him, and 
the Mediterranean an impassable barrier, lay between him 
and France ; and burning sands stretched away on the other 
side, he started across the Desert with ten thousand of his 
best men — took the fortress El-Arish, whose garrison capitu- 
lated — ^marched on to the Philistian city of Gaza, which he 
entered in triumph ; and then carried the walls of Jaffa by 
storm, where at least three thousand resolute Turks died in 
the defence of the city. The garrison, which held out some 
time longer, at last surrendered ; and Napoleon, two days 
after, had them marched off to the summit of the sand-hills 
where over one thousand were shot. They met their fate 
like Turks. Their bodies were stacked into a pyramid, and 
their bones which have been whitening for over half-a-cen- 
tury, are seen there still. This is the first great act of Na- 
poleon which the world has agreed, dimmed the lustre of 
his fame. 

LXIX. 

After failing to reduce St. Jean D'Acre, which he besieged 
for sixty days, the plague broke out in his camp, and the 
whole army turned pale with terror. Napoleon determined 
to fly from this visitation of Heaven, and he treated the 
plague as he had often before a human foe. He began his 
retreat across the Desert. The return to Egypt of his deci- 
mated, wearied, parched and plague-stricken army, vras a 
drama of terror, suffering and heroism on a small scale, not 
unlike the frightful retreat from Moscow. The Arabs of 
the Desert swept around the staggering column as tlie Cos- 



108 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 

sacks had hung upon the rear of the army of Russia. Va- 
liant and hard-muscled men yielded to the intolerable heat 
of the Desert as the army oi 1812 had been overwhelmed by 
the Poland winter. Few generals could have executed so 
difficult an undertaking. It was not like a march through 
an ordinary country. It was rather a moving hospital. 
Napoleon gave up his last horse to aid in the transportation 
of the sick and wounded, and walked on foot by their side 
through the sands, cheering them by his beaming counte- 
nance and heroic example. 

LXX. 

At last his weary legions rose slowly over a sand-ridge of 
the Desert, and saw before them the Nile, sweeping down in 
majesty to the sea. These heroic soldiers, whose cannon 
had waked the echoes of all the sacred mountains of Judea, 
now forgot their sufferings, as they bathed in the refreshing 
waters of that glorious river. Napoleon entered his head- 
quarters in Cairo, and addressed himself to the work of con- 
structing civil institutions for Egypt. But the Beys of the 
Upper Nile were preparing to force a passage down to Alex 
andria, and there form a junction with an immense debarka- 
tion of Ottomans, which would have effected the ruin of Na- 
poleon. But again he outstripped in celerity the movements 
of the enemy, and thus defeated their design. He at once 
descended the Nile to Alexandria. The Turkish fleet had 
already entered the bay of Aboukir and landed eighte'en 
thousand men, who had taken possession of the fortress. A 
battle was to be fought the next day, which, said Napoleon, 
" go as it may, will decide the fate of the world." 

The conflict began on the morning of July 25, 1799, and 
before noon it had ceased to be a battle or even a victory 
It was a massacre I Thousands of the flying Turks plunged 



ovEnTHrwOw oe the tueks. 109 

into the river rather than meet the stroke of the invincible 
Murat, whom they named, all through the Oriental world, 
"Le Beau Sabreur," or the terrible fire of "The Sultan 
Kebir." At least six thousand Turks lay dead on the battle- 
field ; as many more surrendered at discretion ; and the 
corpses of about the same number were floating in a turban- 
wave to the sea. Such w?s the battle of Aboukir, 
which atoned in a great measure for the loss of the fleet, 
and again made Napoleon master of Egypt, 

But the most astounding and alarming intelligence had 
reached Egypt of the progress of the revolution of Europe. 
The perfidy and folly of the Directory had again precipitated 
the allied armies on the French Republic, and although the 
Directory had established the shadow of a republic in Swit- 
zerland, dethroned the King of Sardinia, instigated a bloody 
insurrection in Rome, and set up the form of another repub- 
lic there, driven the King of Naples over to the island of 
Sicily, and established for the moment, what was called at 
Naples, the Parthenopean Republic, still a new and mightier 
coalition than had yet been formed against France, had been 
consolidated by England, and this time the Emperor of Rus- 
sia had been induced to join it. All was alarm and terror 
at Paris, and Napoleon saw very clearly that there was no 
man in France capable of governing the country, and he at 
once resolved upon his return to Paris. 

LXXI. 

Admiral Gantheaume had succeeded in saving two ships 
on that terrible day of the battle of the Nile, and against 
the advice of his associates, and in defiance of every rule of 
discretion, except heroism, Napoleon weighed anchor for 
France. The Mediterranean was scoured at almost every 
league of water by the invincible ships of Nelson. Not a 



110 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 

soul, except Napoleon, dreamed, even, of a successful voyage, 
He was bearing home the rich fruits of the scientific dis- 
coveries the. Institute had made in Egypt. Some of his best 
officers were with him, and above all the vessel carried the 
only man, as the result proved, who could have saved his 
country. For nearly two months of calms and baffling 
winds, and evasions of the English fleets, the timid voyagers 
were kept at sea. Napoleon was the only man on board 
who preserved his equanimity, cheerfulness and repose. He 
spent all his time in a profound study of the Bible, the 
Koran, and those ocher great works which the spirit of in- 
spiration or the genius of ages had elaborated to guide man- 
kind. During this voyage, it was afterwards remarked by 
the savans who accompanied him, that Napoleon cast light 
over every problem that was offered for discussion, and as- 
serted in the completest manner his title to the rank of a 
savan himself. 

LXXII. 

At length, on the 30th of September, after they had es- 
caped thus far the perils of their long voyage, the two ves- 
sels came to anchor in the port of Ajaccio. Nothing had 
been heard of Napoleon for many months, until the people 
learned of the magnificent victory of Aboukir. His recep- 
tion by his native islanders, was enthusiastic beyond descrip- 
tion, and the most satisfactory indications were everywhere 
visible that France was awaiting the return of Napoleon as 
the forlorn hope of the nation. Seven days he remained at 
Ajaccio, when, almost in full view of a great English fleet, he 
gave orders for getting under way. During the niglit his 
vessel passed safely through i\\Q English Heet, and on th.e 
morning of the 9th entered the bay of Frejus. His recep- 
tion was more brilliant than was ever accorded to an impe- 



RETURN FROM EGYPT. Ill 

rial sovereign. The inliabitants went wild witli joy, and 
wherever the news flew, the French ran to see the Conqueror 
of Eg-ypt ; but with only a few hours of detention the car- 
riages were prepared, and he took the road to Paris, where 
he arrived before the couriers who were sent to carry the 
news of his landing. The Directory regarded their doom 
as sealed the moment they heard of his arrival, and Paris 
was convulsed with joy. When Napoleon presented himself 
at the Louxembourg, he was received with every token of 
respect and delight. The honor of a magnificent banquet 
was tendered to him, but no expression of opinion escaped 
his lips, except the toast he proposed of the union of all par- 
ties. Paris, her legislative bodies and the Directory were 
now divided into two parties — the Moderates^ headed by 
Sieyes ; and the Democrats, by Barras. Finding it impossi- 
ble to remain neutral. Napoleon took sides with the former. 
Lucien, who had just been elected' president of the Council 
of Five Hundred, the subtle and able Talleyrand and the 
accomplished Sieyes, were his confidants, and he determined 
to overwhelm the imbecile government and take the reins in 
his own hands. He had measured his strength, established 
his purpose, and now went calmly to its execution. 

LXXIII. 

Several regiments of dragoons of the garrison of Paris, 
the forty adjutants of the National Guard which he had 
remodeled before the Italian campaign, and a large number 
of other commanders and military corps, had tendered their 
congratulations and thanks to Napoleon, and begged of him 
the honor of a review. Without fixing the time when this 
was to be done, he invited all those officers to visit him at 
his house the next morning at six o'clock, while the three 
legments of dragoons were requested to be ready at the 



112 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 

same hour for their review in the Champs Elysee. There 
was a universal expectatioD that some decisive event was 
about to take place, but what the event was, or the manner 
in which it was to be effected, none but those who were in 
the confidence of Napoleon could imagine. At seven o'clock 
on the same morning, the Council of the Ancients assembled 
in the Tuilleries, when the President, one of Napoleon'g 
confidants, arose, and, after a short speech, proposed the 
passage of two decrees ; one which transferred the meetings 
of the legislative bodies to the Palace of St. Cloud, beyond 
the walls of the city, and the other placing all the military 
forces in Paris and its neighborhood, under the command 
of Napoleon. 

These decrees were passed with acclamation and without 
debate, and before Napoleon had left his house a messenger 
came to announce to him the news. He instantly mounted 
his horse and rode to the -Tuilleries with all his staff, where 
being presented to the Council, he said — " You are the 
wisdom of the nation, surrounded by the Generals of the 
Kepublic. I come to offer you our support. Let us- waste 
no time in seeking for precedents. Nothing in history re- 
sembles the close of the eighteenth century — nothing in the 
eighteenth century resembles this moment. Your wisdom 
has devised the necessary measure : our arms will put it in 
execution." 

LXXIV. 

Barras, who with his party was thunderstruck when 'he 
saw what a single hour had accomplished, sent his Secretary 
to protest before Napoleon against what he declared to be 
a usurpation. With the decision the crisis called for Na- 
poleon, said — " What have you been doing for that beau- 
tiful France which I left to you so prosperous when I started 
for Egypt ? Instead of peace, I find war ; instead of the 



NAPOLEON AT ST. CLOUD. 113 

wealth of Italy, I find taxation and distress. Where are 
the hundred thousand brave Frenchmen whom I knew, the 
companions of my glory ? They are dead." Napoleon dis- 
patched some confidential troops to guard the Louxembourg 
and the Directory ceased to exist. 

The Council of Five Hundred an hour or two later as- 
embled to learn their fate. Resistance would have been 
Idle, and adjourning for their next session at St. Cloud, they 
mingled with the enthusiastic people, shouting — Vive la Re- 
publique. When the two legislative bodies assembled et 
St. Cloud the next morning, they found that beautiful 
chateau completely invested by the brilliant battalions of 
Murat. The Gallery of Mars was thrown open for the 
reception of the Council of the Ancients, and a storm.y 
debate began. During the previous night an attempt had 
been made to resist on the coming day the poAver of Napo- 
leon, and if possible to supplant him. In the midst of the 
confusion. Napoleon himself entered the hall, and asking 
permission of the President, thus addressed them — " Citizens, 
you stand on a volcano. Let a soldier frankly proclaim the 
truth. I was quiet in my home when this Council sum- 
moned me to action. I obeyed : I assembled my brave 
comrades, and placed the arms of my country at the service 
of you who are its head. We are paid by calumnies — they 
talk of Cromwell — of Caesar. Had I aspired to power, the 
opportunity was mine long ago. I swear that France holds 
no patriot more devoted than I. We are encircled by dan- 
ger. Let us not hazard the advantages we have bought so 
dearly — Liberty and Equality:" — "And the Constitution," 
interrupted a Democratic member. " The Cousiitution !" 
resumed Napoleon, " it has been thrice violated already — all 
parties have invoked it — each in turn has trampled it in the 
dust ; since it can be preserved no longer, let us at least 



114 KAPOLEOK BONAPARTE. 

save its foundations — Liberty and Equalifcy. It is on yon 
only that I rely. The Council of Five Hundred would 
restore the Convention, popular tumults, the scaffold, the 
Eeign of Terror. I will save you from all these horrors — I 
and my brave comrades, whose swords and caps I see at 
the door of this hall: and if any hireling traitor talks of 
outlawry, to those swords will I appeal." 

LXXV. 

A single shout rang tlirough the arches — Vive Bonaparte. 
In the meantime, in the Council of Five Hundred, where 
were concentrated all the ferocious elements of the days of 
Robespierre, a storm of passion raged. With the same stead- 
iness of purpose and calmness of manner, Napoleon walked 
into the chamber with two grenadiers on either side, who 
halted at the doors that w^ere left open, while the general 
advanced towards the centre of the chamber. At the sight 
of the draw^n swords through the passage-way, and the 
presence of armed men at the doors of that deliberative 
body, the fiercest cries broke forth — " Down with the 
traitor!" "Long live the Constitution!" A large number 
of members rushed upon Napolean, and Arena, a Corsican 
deputy, struck for his throat with a dagger. In an instant 
the grenadiers rushed forward and bore their Commander 
out of the hall. " Soldiers !" he said, " I offered them victory 
and fame — they have answered me with daggers." 

We do not deem it necessary evenlo notice the s'illy 
report that was afterwards spread, that Napoleon was terri- 
fied, and trembled with fear. His generals were alarmed at 
the consequences. " It was worse, gentlemen," said Napo- 
leon calmly, " at Areola. I have led you to victory, to fame, 
to glory. Soldiers ! can I count on you now ?" " We sw^ear 
it," they cried : " Vive Bonaparie,^^ was the answering shout. 



THE COUNCIL OF FIVE HUNDRED DISPERSED. 115 

LXXVI. 

The confusion of the Assembly had grown still Avilcler, and 
Liicien had endeavored in vain to be heard ; the Assembly 
drowned his voice. The grenadiers once more entered the 
hall and bore him away from the fury of his colleagues. 
He mounted a horse, and in a loud voice thus spoke to the 
soldiers : — " General Bonaparte, and you, soldiers of France, 
the President of the Council announces to you, that factious 
men with daggers interrupt the deliberations of the Senate. 
He authorizes you to employ force. The Assembly of Five 
Hundred is dissolved." Le Clerc was at once dispatched to 
execute the order of the President, and with a detachment 
of grenadiers, with a roll of drums and leveled pieces, 
Lucien at their head, mounted, the tribune. " Such," said he, 
" are the orders of the General." The Council had lost the 
day. Most of them made their escape from the windows. 
Lucien immediately assembled the Moderate members of the 
Council, who resumed its sessions, and in conjunction with 
that of the Ancients, a decree was passed investing the en- 
tire authority of the State in a Provisional Consulate of 
Three — Napoleon, Sieyes and Duces. 

LXXVII. 

Thus ended the 18th and 19th Brumaire, and consummated 
one of the most decisive revolutions of which history hag 
preserved any record ; and, so admirable had been the ar- 
rangements of Napoleon, it had not cost France a drop of 
blood. However men's opinions may be divided in justifica- 
tion or condemnation of his course, no man who compre- 
hends the state of affairs in France and in Europe at that 
time, has ever doubted that the usurpation saved Paris from 
frightful scenes of carnage and terror. It was one of those 



116 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 

unforseen but mysterious events in the history of Napoleon, 
upon which the fate of all Europe was suspended. 

LXXVIII. 

The next morning the three Consuls met at Paris, and 
France began to make progress. Napoleon guided and con 
trolled everything, and from this hour the supreme authority 
may be considered vested in him for life. The first day 
they devoted to the consideration of the public finances. 
France was impoverished, and the people had been scourged 
by forced loans and proscriptions till they would endure it 
no longer. A decree was published at once, raising all the 
regular taxes twenty -five per cent., and the revenues and 
expenditures of the government were immediately subjected 
to the severest scrutiny, and the most perfect system. " The 
Law of Hostages," a most despotic and cruel edict, by 
which French citizens were held responsible for all the acts 
of their kinsmen who had fled from France, was abolished — 
Christianity was again restored, and the Churches every- 
where opened with acclamation and gratitude, and «very 
priest who was willing to take the oath of fidelity to the 
government, was restored to his functions as a minister of 
Christ. Upwards of twenty thousand of this proscribed 
and persecuted class, now came forth from the prisons of 
France to bless the name of Napoleon. La Fayette and 
other patriots and statesmen who had been banished because 
they did not approve of the Reign of Terrornand the despotism 
of the Directory, were recalled from their exile, and many 
other salutary reforms at once stamped the new government 
with the seal of public approbation and the confidence 
of Europe. Tranquillity once more prevailed. Law and 
order were established, crime was punished, virtue and pa- 
triotism rewarded, and there was throughout France every- 




BONAPARTE— FIRST CONSUL. 



THE REFOKMS OF THE FIRST CONSUL. 117 

where a growing feeling of delight and satisfaction, that the 
nation had recovered from the terrible days it had passed 
through since the beginning of the revolution, and men 
looked forward to the future with hope. In everything that 
was done the genius of Napoleon was visible. A great man 
was 9t the helm, and the world saw that Napoleon was 
breathing over the chaos of the revolution the regenerating 
hre of his creative genius. 

LXXIX. 

Op the 14th of December the new Constitution was pub- 
lished, and the Consuls thus announced it to the French 
people. "Citizens, the Constitution is grounded on the 
true principles of a representative government, on the sa- 
cred rights of property, equality, and liberty. The powders 
it institutes Avill be vigorous and permanent — such they 
should be to secure the rights of citizens and the interests 
of the State. Citizens, the revolution is established on the 
principles from which it originated : it is ended." 

The Constitution was hailed with gladness and confidence 
by France, and on the 19th of February, 1800, the First 
Consul took up his residence in the Tuilleries, the old home 
of the monarchs of France. When those spacious halls Averp 
again thrown open under the reign of law% order and pro- 
gress, even Europe itself and the foes of Napoleon contem- 
plated the brilliant spectacle with amazement and delight. 
Shortly after, Napoleon reviewed the army of Paris, amount- 
ing to one hundred thousand men, on the Place du Carousal, 
and for the first time in modern history, perhaps, the w^orkl 
saw tiic greatest General of the age, the civil Chief of the 
most brilHant State in Europe. 



118 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 

LXXX. 

The Bourbons now began, when they saw the reign of 
order established, to hope that their exiled and deposed 
race would once more be restored to the throne of their 
fathers. Napoleon was approached by the negociators who 
privately, during a midnight interview, atiempted to gain 
from. him some pledge to that effect, but the attempt was 
unsuccessful. '• The restoration of the Bourbons," he said, 
" cannot be effected without enormous slaughter, and I shall 
entertain but the single idea to forget the past, and gladly 
accept the aid of those who are desirous to see the will of 
the nation fully carried out." 

With a spirit of conciliation and liberality he called into 
the service of the government, without regard to their 
former acts or opinions, the ablest men in France. Talley- 
rand was complained of as a political trickster, and a man 
of no established principles. " Be it so," said Napoleon, 
'' but he is nevertheless the ablest Minister for Foreign 
A^ffairs I can find." Carnot, whom Napoleon had recalled 
from exile, was objected to as a republican. "Let us," he 
said, " avail ourselves of his unrivaled talents in the ad- 
ministration of the war department, and who. cares for his 
opinions ? Fouche everybody knew to be a heartless villain, 
but, said Napoleon, " since we cannot create men we must 
take them as we find them, and Fouche makes the best 
Minister of Police in France." The consummate ability with 
which Napoleon now managed the affairs of the State, the 
army, and the foreign relations of France, created a new 
era for his country. " From this day," says Lockhart, '* a 
new epoch was to date. Submit to that government, and 
no man need fear that his former acts, far less opinions, 
should prove any obstacle to his security — nay, to hib ad- 
vancement. Henceforth the regicide might dismiss all dread 



KAPOLEOis'-S POSITIOK. 119 

of Bourbon revenge — the purchaser of forfeited property, of 
being sacrificed to the returning nobles ; provided only they 
chose to sink their theories aod submit. To the royalists, 
on the one hand, Bonaparte held out the prospect, not indeed 
of a Bourbon restoration, but of a re-establishment of a 
mouarchial government and all the concomitants of a court. 
For the churchman the temples were at once opened, and 
the rebuilding of the hierarchical fabric in all its wealth 
and splendor and power was offered in prospective. Mean- 
while the great and growing evil from which the revolution 
had really sprung was forever abolished. The odious dis- 
tinction of castes was at an end. Political liberty existed, 
perhaps, no longer, but civil liberty — the equality of French- 
men in the eye of the law — was, or seemed to be, established. 
All men must henceforth contribute to the State in the pro- 
portion of their means ; all men appealed to the same tri- 
bunals ; and no man, however meanly born, had it to say 
that there was one post of power or dignity in France to 
which talent and labor never could elevate him.'' A higher 
eulogy never was passed upon a conqueror or a statemian, 
and the most wonderful three months in the prog'i'css of 
human government or human fortunes that history speaks 
of, is the period from the 18th Brumaire to the proclamation 
of the New Constitution. 

LXXXI. 

During the absence of Napoleon in Egypt, the tri-color 
which he had left floating on the castles along the Rhine, 
and from the Julian Alps to the Mediterranean, had been 
humbled,' and England and Austria, with all the allies they 
could bring into the coalition, were preparing once more to 
compel the French to retire to their ancient boundaries, and 
ultimately offer the crown to the exiled Bourbons. But 



120 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 

Napoleon knew tliat France needed internal repose, and he 
was desirous if possible to atone for the treachery and 
weakness of the Directory, and establish universal peace in 
Europe. Waving the usual etiquette of diplomacy, the 
First Consul had already [December 25th, 1799,] addressed 
the following letter to King George, and if England had 
been wise enough or magnanimous enough to give it the 
answer it merited, she would have saved herself whole 
decades of struggle, incalculable treasure and countless 
hecatombs of men. But England had not then, with all the 
boasted Avisdom of her Pitts and Grenvilles, learned the 
great lesson which Napoleon afterwards taught her so 
effectually — non-intervention in the affairs of other nations. 
Louis Napoleon has been saved all the trouble of teaching 
England this lesson which his Uncle taught her so well. 
That France should have proclaimed a Republic, was in the 
opinion of British statesmen an unpardonable crime in 1792 ; 
out England saw no crime in it when France repeated the 
act half a century afterwards. Kossuth has received the 
credit of first proclaiming this principle, and it has been 
conceded to him ; but the true author and vindicator of the 
great doctrine of the right of every nation to govern itself, 
without the intervention of others, was first and longest 
and hardest fought for by Napoleon Bonaparte. 

LXXXII. 

But the letter. "French RejJuUic — Sovereignty of tlio 
FaopU — Liberty and Equality. Bonaparte, First Consul of 
t'lG RepuUic, to Ids Majesty the King of Great Britain and 
Ireland: — Called by the wishes of the French N"ation to oc- 
cupy the first magistracy of the Republic, I have thought 
proper in commencing the discharge of its duties, to com- 
municate the event directly to your Majesty. 



napoleon's letter to GEORGE THIRD. 121 

" Must the war whicli for eight years has ravaged the four 
quarters of the world, be eternal ? Is there no room for 
accommodation ? How can the two most enlightened na- 
tions of Europe, stronger and more powerful than is neces- 
sary for their safety and independence, sacrifice commercial 
advantages, internal prosperity, and domestic happiness, to 
vain ideas of grandeur ? Whence comes it that they do not 
feel peace to be the first of wants as well as of glories ? 
These sentiments cannot be new to the heart of your Majes- 
ty, who rules over a free nation with no other view than 
to render it happy. Your Majesty will see in this overture 
only my sincere desire to contribute effectually for the 
second time to a general pacification — by a prompt step 
taken in confidence, and freed from those forms which, how- 
ever necessary to disguise the apprehensions of feeble 
States, only serve to discover in the powerful a mutual wish 
to deceive. 

" France and England, abusing their strength, may long 
defer the period of its utter exhaustion ; but I will venture 
to say that the fate of civilized nations is concerned in the 
termination of a war, the flames of which are raging through- 
out the whole world. I have the honor, &c., <fec., 

" Bonaparte. '^ 

LXXXIII. 

In a very short-sighted letter, Lord Grenville, then Secre- 
tary of State, replied to Talleyrand. We will spare England 
the humiliation of another edition of this dispatch. She 
paid very dearly for the insult, and George III himself af- 
terwards said, that he was very sorry he did not have the 
opportunity of replying to General Bonaparte's letter him- 
self. It would have saved England millions of money, and 
Europe millions of lives. 



122 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 

One word from Lord Grenville's note : — '' The war must 
continue until the causes which gave it birth cease to exist. 
The restoration of the exiled royal family will be the 
easiest means of giving confidence to the other powers of 
Europe." When Napoleon read the letter, he said — " I 
will answer that from Italy/' — and immediately called his 
Generals together, and ordered them to get ready for an- 
other campaign beyond the Alps. Three days after the 
receipt of the Grenville note, the First Consul electrified 
France by an edict for an army of reserve, embracing all 
the veterans who had ever served the country, and a new 
levy of 30,000 conscripts. Four great armies were already 
in the field — one on the North coast was watching Holland, 
and guarding against any invasion from England ; and this 
division was sufficiently powerful, after the humiliating de- 
feat of the Duke of York : Jourdan commanded the army 
of the Da.nube, which had re-passed the Rhine : Massena 
was at the head of the army of Helvetia, and held Switzer- 
land ; and the fragment of the mighty host that Napoleon 
had himself led to victory, still called the army of Italy. 

LXXXIY. 

After dispatching his orders, by which upwards of 350,000 
men were marched to various points, of conflict with the 
European powers. Napoleon joined Berthier at Geneva, 
[May 8th, 1800], where Marescot, the engineer, who had at 
the order of Napoleon, explored the passes of the Alps, 
described minutely the all but insuperable obstacles that 
would oppose the passage of an army. Napoleon impa- 
tiently demanded — " Is it possible for an army to pass ?" 
" It might be done," was the answer. " Then, it shall bo," 
said Napoleon ; and preparations were instantly made. 

Says Botta, in his superb description of this campaign— 



PASSAGE OF THE GREAT ST. BERNARD. 123 

*' The First Consul set forth on his stupendous enterprise, 
his forces being already assembled at Martignj at the foot 
of the great St. Bernard. The soldier gazed on the aerial 
summits of the lofty mountains with wonder and impatience. 
On the 17th of May the whole body set out from Martigny 
for the conquest of Italy. Extraordinary was their order, 
wonderful their gayety, and astonishing also the activity and 
energy of their operations. Laughter and song lightened 
their toils. They seemed to be hastening, not to a fearful 
war, but to a festival. The multitude of various and mingled 
sounds were re-echoed from hill to hill, and the silence of 
these solitary and desolate regions, which revolving ages 
had left undisturbed, was for a moment broken by the re- 
joicing voices of the gay and warlike. Precipitous heights, 
strong torrents, sloping valleys, succeeded each other with 
disheartening frequency. Owing to his incredible boldness 
and order, Lannes was always chosen by the Consul to take 
the lead in every enterprise of danger. They had now 
reached an elevation where skill or courage seemed power- 
less against the domain of nature. From St. Pierre to the 
summit of the great St. Bernard there is no beaten road 
whatever, until the explorer reaches the monastery of the 
Religious Order devoted to the preservation of travelers 
bewildered in these regions of eternal winter. Every means 
that could be devised was adopted for transporting the 
artillery and baggage ; the carriages which had been wheeled 
were now dragged — those which had been drawn were car- 
ried. The largest cannon were placed in troughs and on 
sledges, and the smallest swung on sure-footed mules. The 
ascent to be accomplished was immense. In the windings' 
of the tortuous paths the troops were now lost and now 
revealed to sight. Those who first mounted the steps, seeing 
their companions in the depths below, cheered them on with 



124 NAPOLEOX BONAPARTE. 

shouts of triumph. The valleys on every side re-echoed to 
their voices. Amidst the snow, in mists and clouds, the 
resplendent arms and colored uniforms of the soldiers ap- 
peared in bright and dazzling contrast : the sublimity of 
dead nature and the energy of living action thus united, 
formed a spectacle of surpassing wonder. The Consul, 
exulting in the success of his plans, was seen everywhere 
amongst the soldiers, talking with military familiarity to 
one and now to another, and, skilled in the eloquence of 
camps, he so excited their courage that, braving every obsta- 
cle, they now deemed that easy which had been adjudged 
impossible. They soon approached the highest summit, and 
discerned in the distance the pass which leads from the 
opening between two towering mountains to the loftiest 
pinnacle. With shouts of transport they hailed this extreme 
point as the termination of their labors, and with new ardor 
prepared to ascend. When their strength occasionally 
flagged under excess of fatigue, they beat their drums, and 
then, re-animated by the spirit-stirring sound, proceeded 
forward with fresh vigor. At last they reached the summit 
and there felicitated each other as if after a complete and 
assured victory. Their hilarity was not a. little increased 
by finding a simple repast prepared in front of the monas- 
tery, the provident Consul having furnished the monks with 
money to supply what their own resources could not have 
afforded for such numbers. Here they were regaled with 
wine and bread and cheese, and enjoyed a brief repose 
amidst dismounted cannon and scattered baggage, amidst 
ice and conglomerated snow, while the monks passed from 
troop to troop in turn, the calm of religious cheerfulness 
depicted on their countenances. Thus did goodness an^ 
power meet and hold communion, on this extreme summit.' 



BATTLE OF MARENGO. 125 

Lxxxy. 
The passage of tlie Alps had been achieved with so much 
celerity, that long before the Austrians knew Napoleon's 
army was in motion, he had descended into Italy, where 
Lannes [June 9th,] had met and cut to pieces a powerful 
division, and taken five thousand prisoners on the field of 
Montibello. On the 14th of June, the Austrian and French 
armies came together on the plain of Marengo. We cannot 
trace the events of that wonderful day. Napoleon had 
fought against terrible odds in numbers and in position ; 
and, nearly overpowered, his army was slowly retiring from 
the field when Dessaix, riding up to the First Consul, said — 
" I think this a battle lost." " And I," said Napoleon, " think 
it a battle won." He drew up his army on a third line of 
battle, and riding along said to them — " Soldiers ! we have 
retired far enough. You know it is always my custom to 
sleep on the field of battle." A final charge was then made, 
when Dessaix, whose gallantry changed the fortunes of the 
day, was shot dead through the head.. Napoleon embraced 
him an instant and said, as his tears fell on his dead gene- 
ral — " Alas ! I must not weep now," — and mounting his horse 
again plunged into the battle. So far from being dis- 
heartened by the terrible spectacle of the loss of the beloved 
Dessaix, the whole army concentrated themselves together 
and hurled their invincible columns upon the Austrian lines. 
They marched victorious over thousands of the slain. The 
broken infantry and the terrified cavalry fled in confusion 
to the banks of the Bormida, into which they were plunged 
by the French cavalry, who swept the field. The Bormida 
was clogged and crimsoned by German corpses. Such was 
the Battle of Marexgo, the most decisive perhaps which 
had been fought in Europe. It opened to Napoleon the 
gates of all the principal cities of Northern Italy. 



126 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 

LXXXVI. 

The Conqueror at once marched to Milan, where he waa 
received with exultation, and immediately reconstructed the 
fallen Cis- Alpine Republic. Leaving the army of Italy un- 
der the command of Massena, and Jourdan minister in Pied- 
mont, by a flying journey he was again, on the second day 
of July, in the Palace of the Tuilleries. We believe that 
few historians have attempted to describe his triumphal entry 
into Paris. It was but a few days before, that he had set out 
for the campaign of Marengo, and his achievement seemed to 
transcend the bounds of possibility. Every house in Paris 
was illuminated, and the joy was so much the greater since 
a French traveler had just before reached Paris with the 
announcement that he had left the field of Marengo at a late 
hour in the day, when Napoleon's army had retreated before 
the Austrians and General Melas had achieved a great vic- 
tory. He stated only the truth, which Napoleon himself 
confirmed on his arrival ; but the turn in the fortunes of the 
day a single hour afterward he had not waited to observe. 

Napoleon's power and fame were now greater than ever, 
and the Bourbons believing that the moment had come for 
the restoration of their fortunes, again pressed Napoleon 
with their offers. " You are very tardy," said the Count 
de Lille, afterwards Louis XVIII., " in restoring to me my 
throne. It is to be feared that you will let the favorable 
moment slip. You cannot establish the happiness of France 
without me, and I on the other hand^ can do nothing for 
France without you. Make haste, then, and point out your- 
self the posts and dignities which will suit you and your 
friends." 

In reply, the First Consul wrote — " I have received your 
Royal Highness' letter. I have always taken a lively inte- 
rest in your misfortunes, and those of your family. You 



THE INFERNAL-MACHIXE. 127 

must not. think of appearing in France — you could not do so 
without marching over five-hundred thousand corpses. For 
the rest I shall always be zealous to do whatever lies in my 
power toward softening your Royal Highness' destinies, and 
making you forget, if possible, your misfortunes." 

LXXXVII. 

Napoleon had now reached such a point of power, that the 
Bourbons resigned all hopes of a restoration through his 
agency ; and as there were not wanting instruments ready 
to be employed for such a purpose, the assassination of Na- 
poleon was agreed on, and through countless futile schemes 
it was for years prosecuted most unrelentingly. In August, 
1800, Ceracchi, the famous and infamous Italian sculptor, at- 
tempted the assassination of Napoleon as he was entering 
the theatre ; but one of the accomplices had betrayed him, 
and the chief conspirator was seized. Then followed the 
infernal-machine, which consisted of a barrel of gunpow- 
der, surrounded by an immense quantity of grape-shot, sta- 
tioned on the night of the 10th of October, at Nacaise, 
a narrow street through which Napoleon was to pass on his 
way to the opera-house. At St. Helena, he himself thus re- 
lated the circumstance : — " I had been hard at work all day, 
and was so overpowered by sleep after dinner that Josephine, 
who was quite anxious to go to the opera that night, found 
t very difficult to rouse me up and persuade me to go. I 
fell asleep again after I had entered the carriage, and I was 
dreaming of the danger I had undergone some years before 
in crossing the Tagliamento at midnight by the light of 
torches during a flood, when I was waked by the explosion 
of the infernal machine." " We are blown up," he ex- 
cJaimed, to B^ssieres and Lannes, who were in the carriage. 
" iinve on " said Napoleon. The coachman, who was in- 



128 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 

toxicated, heard tlie order, and having mistaken the explo- 
sion for a salute, lashed his horses up to the theatre. Tlie 
machine had been fired by a slow-match, and the explo- 
sion took place just twenty seconds too soon. Summary 
justice was executed upon the immediate perpetrators of this 
infamous design, and not long after the blood of the Duke 
P'Enghien atoned dearly for the part, whatever it m.ay have 
been, that the Bourbons had taken in these murderous 
schemes. 

LXXXVIII. 

After the battle of Marengo, Austria had been glad enough 
to sign an armistice, but being somewhat reassured by these 
attempts upon the life of Napoleon, she delayed the final ne- 
gotiations of the treaty for five months, when Napoleon, 
perceiving that he was being trifled with by the Austrian 
Cabinet, gave orders in November to all his Generals to put 
their divisions in march along the frontiers of the French 
dominions. The shock was instantaneous, from the Rhine 
to the Mincio. Brune overwhelmed the Austrians on the 
Mincio ; Macdonald held the Tyrol, and Moreau achieved 
the glorious victory of Hohenlinden. With three victorious 
armies, either of which could now have marched trium- 
phantly into Vienna, Napoleon hesitated long enough before 
taking that final step to allow Austria to sign an honest and 
definitive peace. The treaty of Luneville [February 9, 
1801], wrung from the Austrian Emperor, who also acted as 
chief of the German Empire, a guarantee to France of her 
■boundary of the Rhine, the possession of Tuscany," the union 
of the Batavian Republic with the French, the existence and 
integrity of the Cis- Alpine and Ligurian Republics, i\nd a 
final withdrawal from the coalition against I'rance. Mr. 
Pitt now considered his diplomatic note to Talleyrand re- 
plied to in full, and when he read the bulletin of Mareugo 



PEACE WITH EXGLAXD. 129 

he threw aside a map of Europe wliich he held in his hand, 
and said — " Fold it up ! We sha'nt want it again these twen- 
ty years." 

LXXXIX. 

The British nation had now become tired of the policy of 
Pitt, which held England in hostility against France, and 
made Europe a universal battle-field. Perceiving that he 
could not long continue to press his policy upon the British 
Parliament, he resio'ned office, and Mr. Addington became 
his successor. Napoleon was determined to bring England 
to a negotiation of peace and a recognition of the French Re- 
public. After the news of the reverses which had happened 
to his Egyptian army, and the great sea-victory of Copen- 
hcigen by Nelson, Napoleon gathered an armament of 100,000 
men on the coasts- of France, with a flotilla sufficiently large 
to effect a landing in England whenever circumstances 
should seem to favor such a movement. 

It has always been doubted whether Napoleon seriously 
entertained the purpose of invading Great Britain, but he 
succeeded, at all events, in convincing the world for the 
time that such was his design, and Lord Nelson was put in 
command of the mightiest fleet England could gather for 
the Channel. English statesmen seemed to feel that the 
salvation of Great Britain depended upon keeping Napoleon 
from landing on her coasts, for it was supposed that, once on 
the shore of England at the head of 100,000 men, he would 
have marched on London and taken possession of the British 
capital. J'he British ministry and the British nation had 
become thoroughly convinced of the folly of Pitt's policy, 
and when the peace of Amiens was signed, [March 25th, 
1802], it was amidst universal demonstrations of joy in Paris 
and London, and indeed throughout the British and French 
empires, and all civilized nations. 



130 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 

XC. 

For nearly ten years the Englisli had been shut off from 
the Continent, and it is estimated that within a few weeks 
upwards of a hundred thousand crossed the Channel. Fox 
and many other British statesmen and a vast number of 
English noblemen, scholars, artists, men of learning, rank 
and talents, thronged the levees of the First Consul, and 
they were all received with courtesy and kindness. It was 
hoped that a period of permanent peace had arrived, when 
kinder and nobler feelings could be cultivated between the 
two nations. 

In the meantime, Napoleon had been working ceaselessly 
and intensely in the great business of re-constructing socie- 
■'.y, whose foundations in France had been so completely 
upheaved by the revolution. The inauguration of Christian 
worship once more in France, is a fact we have only alluded 
to ; but it deserves, among the achievements of Napoleon, 
to be ranked perhaps in the very first place. France was 
now an infidel nation. It was the fashion, from the saloon 
of the elegant classes, to the rabble of the streets, to believe 
that there was no God. It required no little strength of 
purpose to take this step. " Religion," said he, " is a prin- 
ciple which cannot be eradicated from the heart of man." 
" Last Sunday evening," he said, " I was walking here- alone, 
and the church-bells of the village of Reuel rang rvt sun- 
set. I was strongly moved, so vividly did the memory of 
early days come back with that sound. ~^If it be thus with 
me, what must it be with others ? In re-estabMshing the 
Church, I consult the wishes of the great majority of ray 
people." 

xci. 

In the life of Cardinal Fesch, we have already given a 
brief history of the Concordat, and Notre Dame was pre- 



PROGRESS OF SCIENCE IX FRAXCE. 131 

pared for a solemn and magnificent ceremony on the occasion 
of its ratification. Napoleon was present with a retinue 
more brilliant, perhaps, than would have attended any 
sovereign in Europe. It was at about this period, too, that 
Napoleon turned his attention to the organization of a sys 
tem.of national education, and Monge, the celebrated savan, 
drew up the plan for the establishment of the Polytecnic 
iSchool, which became the fountain of light and eminence to 
the French people and the whole continent of Europe. 
Every facility was also furnished to the corps of savans, on 
iheir return from Egypt, for arranging and preparing for 
ihe use of the world the results of their explorations in the 
East. When these results were published, the learned 
world felt that the Egyptian and Syrian campaigns had so 
materially contributed to the cause of science, that it would 
be a source of far more enduring glory to the Conqueror 
than all his victories. He also commenced the Herculean 
labor of preparing a Code of Law for the French nation, 
and in this work, as in everything else that he undertook, 
he not only laid tribute upon all the learning of his country, 
but he exhausted secretary after secretary by the intensity 
and protraction of their labors. The world is so familiar 
with the Code Napoleon, and the influence it has had upon 
the science of jurisprudence and the institutions of Europe, 
that we need only glance at it. 

XCII. 

A vast number of great public works which he had before 
projected were now begun, and afterwards carried into 
execution. Canals extending the inland navigation of 
France, bridges across rivers, roads between important 
places, museums for the collection of whatever illustrated 
history, science or the arts, monuments in honor of illus- 



132 NAPOLEON BOXAPARTE. 

trious men and great events, schools for learning and art, 
and other great enterprises, which bespoke the gen .us of 
Napoleon for civil administration as impressively as his vic- 
tories had his talent for war. 

He also established the Order of the Legion of Honor 
not long after this period ; and, for reasons which to his 
counselors of state are thus reported on authentic authority. 
" They talk about ribbons and crosses being the playthings 
of Monarchs, and say that the old Romans had no system 
of honorary rewards. The Romans had patricians, knights, 
citizens and slaves — ^for each class different dresses and 
different manners — ^mural crowns, civic crowns, ovations, 
triumphs and titles. When the noble band of patricians 
lost its influence, Rome fell to pieces — the people were a vile 
rabble. It was then that you saw the fury of Marius, the 
proscriptions of Scylla, and afterward of the emperors. In 
like manner Brutus is talked of as the enemy of tyrants : 
he was an aristocrat, who stabbed Caesar because , Cassar 
wished to lower the authority of the Senate. You talk of 
child's rattles — be it so : it is with such rattles that men are 
led. I would not say that to the multitude, but in a council 
of statesmen one may speak the truth. I do not believe 
that the French people love liberty and eauality. Their 
character has not been changed in ten years. They are still 
what tlieir ancestors, the Gauls, were — vain and light. They 
are susceptible of only one sentiment — honor. It is right 
to afford nourishment to this sentiment, and to allow of d'is- 
tinctions. Observe how the people bow before the decora- 
tions of foreigners. Yoltaire calls the common soldiers 
' Alexanders, at five sous a day.' He was right. It is just 
so. I)o you imagine you can make men fight by reason ? 
Never ! You must bribe them with glory, distinctions, re- 
wards. To come to the point — during ten years there has 



LEGION OF HOXOR — COXSL^L FOE LIFE. 138 

been a talk of institutions. "Where are they ? All has been 
overturned. Our business is to build up. There is a govern- 
ment with certain powers. As to all the rest of the nation, 
what is it but grains of sand ? Before the Republic can be 
definitely established, we must as a foundation cast some 
blocks of granite on the soil of France. In fine, it is agreed 
that we have need of some kind of institutions. If this 
Legion of Honor is not approved, let some other be sug- 
•gested. I do not pretend that it alone will save the State, 
but it will do its part.'' 

XCIII. 

The Legion of Honor was necessary at that time m 
France, and it may be necessary there for a long time to 
come. When Napoleon had himself seen the fruit of it in 
some thousands of instances, he said to a friend at St. 
Helena — " This Order was the reversion of every one who 
was an honor to his country, stood at the head of his pro- 
fession, and contributed to the national prosperity and 
glory. Some were dissatisfied because the decoration was 
conferred alike on officers and soldiers ; others, because it 
was given to civil and military merit indiscriminately ; but 
if this Order ever cease to be the recompense of the brave 
private, or be confined to military men alone, it will cease 
to be what I made it — the Legion of Honor." 

The Legion of Honor was instituted the 15th of May, 
1802. On the 2d of June of the same year. Napoleon had 
visited Lyons to address, in their native tongue, a convention 
of four hundred and fifty Italian Deputies, who had assem- 
bled in that city to establish a permanent and independent 
Cis-Alpine Republic, and confer on him the honor of its 
Presidency. On the 15th of May, 1802, Napoleon, by the 
act of the Senate, and the universal suffrages of the French 
people, was appointed Consul for life. 



134 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 

XCIV. 

We should in anotlier place have noticed an act of Napo- 
leon soon after lie was first chosen Consul, which too many 
of his biographers have failed to record. While these tur- 
bulent scenes were then being enacted on the banks of the 
Seine, the Founder of the Young Republic of the West 
had peacefully breathed his last in the waveless repose of 
Mount Vernon, and his grave was wet with the tears of a 
nation's sorrow and gratitude. When Napoleon heard that 
he was no more, he said — " The great light of the world has 
gone out," — and taking the pen in his hand, in the following 
Order of the Day, he thus announced the decease of the great 
patriot to the Consular Guard and the Armies of France :— 
" Washington is dead. This great man fought against 
tyranny ; he established the liberty of his country. His 
memory must always be dear to the French people, as well 
as to all the free of both worlds, and especially to the 
French soldiers, who, like him and his American troops, 
fight in defence of liberty and equality. Therefore, the 
First Consul has ordered, that for the space of ten days, 
crape shall be hung on all the colors and standards of the 
Republic." . • 

No American can read this tribute from the greatest man 
of Europe to the virtues of the greatest man of America, 
without emotion. Nor can we quite forget the contrast it 
offers to the course of the British Government. Sprung 
from Anglo-Saxon stock, descended from noble English 
ancestors, the Founder of a New England, on this side of the 
Atlantic, that seems destined to perpetuate the Language, 
Laws, Religion, Arts and Civilization of Old England to 
distant ages and races of men, — we have always regretted 
that Pitt could not have outrivalled Napoleon by some act 
of veneration to the memory of Washington. 



VIOLATION OF THE PEACE OF AMIENS. 135 

XCV. 

The armistice of Amiens lasted till March 13, 1803, when 
Great Britain again declared war against France. Her 
agents throughout the world, had been instructed suddenly 
to seize all the commerce of the French nation wherever 
found, and two hundred vessels, containing at least fifteen 
millions of dollars of property, fell at once into the hands of 
England. Napoleon, on the very night the news reached 
him, retaliated by arresting upwards of ten thousand Eng- 
lishmen then in France. England made a loud and prolonged 
scream of horror at this act of despotism, and endeavored 
to excite the sympathy of all Europe on her side, and the 
abhorrence of mankind against Napoleon, because of the 
violation of private rights and the immense amount of per- 
sonal suffering and sacrifice caused thereby. But the pro- 
vocation had been severe enough, and it would have been 
very hard to show that a confiscation and robbery of 
$15,000,000 of French property had not caused as much 
suffering to the people of France as the arrest of ten thou- 
sand Englishmen had to the people of England. 

The flames of war were again lighted in every part of 

Europe, and again 160,000 French soldiers were marshaled 

on the coasts of France threatening another invasion of 

England. Once more the loyalty and patriotism of Great 

Britain were kindled into a blaze ; beacon-fires blazed along 

the hills ; camps were established along the coast, and King 

George himself went familiarly through them to inspire his 

soldiers. 

xcvi. 

At this period England had brought every engine of 
power to the accomplishment of the overthrow of Napoleon, 
and in conjunction with the exiled Bourbons, other attempts 
were lixaao upon the life of the First Consul. Every at- 



136 NAPOLEON BOXAPARTE. 

tempt, however, proved unavailing, because it seemed impos- 
sible that any conspiracy aimed against the chief of the 
State could elude the sleepless vigilance and subtle cunning 
of Fouche. A vast deal has been written on a subject we 
are now to dispose of in a single paragraph. Men of sense 
will never believe that the agents of England and the Bour- 
bons were not making every attempt in their power to 
assassinate Napoleon. Conspiracy after conspiracy was 
detected, and there could have been no mistake on one 
point, that they had their origin with Napoleon's political 
enemies. Their connection with the Bourbons and the 
Jesuitical diplomatists was satisfactorily traced. Napoleon 
resolved upon retaliation. The Duke D'Enghien, the heir 
of Conde, was suddenly arrested in his castle in the Duchy 
of Baden, on the evening of the 14th of March, (1804), and 
conveyed to the Citadel of Strasbourg, where he was con- 
fined three days, and at midnight conveyed to Paris. After 
a few hours imprisonment in the Temple he was. sent to 
the Castle of Yincennes, the old State Prison of France. 
He was tried by a Court Martial in the most summary and 
hasty manner, and pronounced guilty of having fought 
against the Republic, which was doubtless true, and he 
gloried in it. He was condemned to death, led down a 
wielding stairway by torch-light, and shot in a ditch in the 
Castle at six o'clock in the morning, and his body thrown 
into a grave which had been prepared for him. It was a 
cold, merciless murder, and the young Sonde's heroic'and 
noble character, made all Europe sad for his fate ; but it 
produced precisely the result Napoleon intended by it, 
and he always rejoiced that it was done. The kings, 
princes, Jesuits and despots of Europe, who had crushed 
nations into the earth for successive ages, and perpetrated 
interminable catalogues of crime, «;acrif.cing who^e genera- 



DEATH OF THE DUKE D'EXGHIEN. 137 

tions for the selfish purposes of power and ambition, saw 
nothing sacred in the life of Napoleon. It was not, in thtiir 
estimation, murder to assassinate him, for he was a usurper. 
There was something sacred about the life of the Duke 
P'Enghien, for through his veins flowed the blood of a 
i'oyal prince. The royalists of Europe were chilled with 
horror, and they turned pale at the thought that they 
were dealing with a man who would as coolly write the 
death-warrant of a Conde as they would of a Bonaparte. 
The death of the Duke D'Bnghien was intended to be a re- 
taliation, and it was a fearful one. No more attempts were 
made upon the life of the Consul. 

XCYII. 

Until Europe casts aside that false and fatal principle, 
that the life of a king is any more sacred than the life of 
any other man, until she plucks up by the roots the foul 
Upas tree of hereditary rank and nobility and royal prero- 
gatives, till that moment Republicanism can never exist on 
the Continent. It is a plant which must grow up in the 
clear sunshine of the eternal principle of the inalienable 
rights of man, and all the struggles of European nations for 
Republican institutions will be dreams of romance, until 
this great principle is forever established. Whether Europe 
will ever reach, in our times or in the future, that political 
position in philosophy and in government which the jlnieri- 
can Republic started out on seventy years ago, remains yet 
to be seen. England never would have thought of making 
war on the French Republic, had not the head of Louis 
XYI. rolled from the block. She would have had no justi- 
fication to adduce for her declaration of war in violation 
of the Treaty of Amiers, had she not been furnished with 
one by the opportune murder of the Duke D'Enghien. 



138 NAPOLEON BOX AP ARTE. 

"Peace to the ashes of the young Conde," said the English ; 
and say we, " Peace to the ashes of Charles I., Anna Boleyn, 
Lady Jane Grey and Sir Walter Raleigh/' ^ 

On the 18th of May, 1804, by the advice of the Senate, 
and the universal assent of the French nation, Napoleon as- 
sumed the imperial title and dignity ; and on the 2d of the 
following December, in the midst of one of the most impos- 
ing and brilliant scenes ever enacted on the earth, Napoleon 
and Josephine were crowned in Notre Dame, by Pius YII., 
the Pontiff of Rome. The Senators of the Italian Republic 
requested that the Emperor would be crowned as their 
King, at Milan, and on the following May 26th, [1805,] in 
the Cathedral of Milan, he assumed the Iron Crown of the 
Lombard Kings. 

XCVIII. 

Napoleon had scarcely entered his Capital after the re- 
turn from the Coronation in Italy, before he learned, that a 
new Coalition had been set on foot against him, and that 
England, Russia, Austria and Sweden, with half a million 
men, were preparing once more to light the flames of battle 
among fifty nations, to reinstate the Bourbons on the throne 
of France. Napoleon desired peace — he wanted leisure to 
prosecute and perfect the great Public Works he had begun 
or projected ; and he went as far as true honor and humani- 
ty could prompt a great man, to preserve the tranquillity of 
the Continent. He again addressed a letler to the King of 
England, which breathed a spirit of magnanimity. But 
again he was treated with insolence and contempt. Napo- 
leon, however, could not believe that Austria would trample 
another treaty into the dust, and so soon, too, after the fatal 
day of Marengo ; and he sent a messenger to Frankfort-on- 
the-Maine, to learn the truth. But the Envoy soon returned 



CAMPAIGN of ULM AND AUSTERLITZ. 139 

witli tlie best maps of the German Empire, and opening 
them on the council-table of the Tuilleries, said — " The 
Austrian General is advancing on Munich, the Russian 
army is in motion, and Prussia will join them." The Empe- 
ror of Russia had also by post-horses pushed on to Berlin 
to win over the Prussian Monarch to the great Bourbon 
Coalition ; and to play his part with more effect the Cos- 
sack asked his royal brother to attend him to the tomb of 
his ancestor. They descended by torch-light to the vault 
where Frederick the Great had been laid after his battles ; 
and there over the honored dust, and pointing to the sword 
and orders of the immortal Conqueror, which lay on his 
coffin — as if those emblems could impart deeper solemnity 
to the oath — the Cossack made the heir of Frederick swear 
to join the European Coalition. A few weeks afterwards 
the Hero of Austerlitz also descended to that death-chamber, 
and said to an attendant, " These orders and sword shall wit- 
ness no other scene of perjury over the ashes of Frederick.'' 

xcix. 

Finding another campaign against the Kings of Europe 
inevitable, and unable by words of kindness or Treaties of 
Peace, to divert its frightful calamities, the young Emperor 
of the French gathered his Eagles and led them toward the 
Danube. To embrace even the outlines of this magnificent 
campaign, whole volumes have been written. Napoleon's 
army which from the French coasts had so lately sent terror 
to the remotest hamlet of England, had now crossed the 
Rhine in six divisions, headed by Soult, Marmont, Vandamme, 
Davoust, Ney and Murat. Before a month had passed, 
20,000 prisoners had fallen into the hands of the victorious 
generals, and Mack, the Austrian Commander, who had shut 
himself up in the Castle of Ulm, capitulated with 36,000 



140 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 

men and 50 pieces of cannon. As the news S] -ead, It (5ar- 
ried consternation through Europe. Sir Walto* Scott says, 
" The death of William Pitt was accelerated by the Cam- 
paign of Ulm and Austerlitz, as his health had been pre- 
viously injured by the defeat of Marengo." 

A Russian and Austrian army of 50,000, advancing to the 
relief of Ulm, now retreated from the victorious columns of 
France, into Moravia, where the Czar had fixed his head- 
quarters as a rallying point for both armies. ' Napoleon was 
advancing on Yienna, and the Emperor Francis fled from 
his Capital to the Camp of Alexander, at Brunn. On the 
13th of November, Napoleon's army entered Yienna, and he 
took up his head-quarters in the Imperial Palace of the 
Schoenbrun. Probably the campaign would have now ended, 
had not the news come of the battle of Trafalgar. This 
splendid victory had put an end to the Naval power of 
France, and swept her flag from the ocean. " Heaven has 
given the Empire of the Sea to England," said Napoleon — 
" but to us has fate decreed the Dominion of the Land." He 
determined to respond to the cannon of Nelson from- the 
centre of Europe. 

c 

He left Yienna at the head of his army, and marched 
towards Brunn, where the Austrian and Russian foi'ces 
were- concentrated under the eyes of their two Emperors. 
The armies met on the 1st December, [180o], and prepared 
for battle the following day. At midnight when , every- 
thing was ready, and his mighty host was sleeping on the 
field, the Emperor laid himself down by a watch-fire for 
sixty minutes, then rose, mounted his horse and began to re- 
connoitre. He wished to escape observation, but some of 
his wakeful soldiers recognized him, and in a few moments 



BATTLE OF AUSTEELITZ. 141 

piles of straw were thrown together, and they lit up his path 
as he rode from post to post, while shout rose above shout 
till the camp rang with the wild acclamations of eighty 
thousand soldiers. Napoleon could not account for so un- 
usual a demonstration, and he was on the point of suppress- 
ing it by an order that would have been obeyed. But the 
shouts told him it was the Anniversary-day of his Corona- 
tion, and in their uncontrollable enthusiasm he found a pledge 
of its glorious celebration. ' An old grenadier approached 
him and said, " Sire, you will not need to expose yourself ; I 
promise, in the name of the grenadiers of the army, that you 
will have to fight only with your eyes ; and we will bring 
you the flags and artillery of the Russians to celebrate the 
Anniversary of your Coronation." 

He rode back to his bivouac, a straw -cabin without a roof, 
which his grenadiers had prepared for him, and wrote a pro 
clamation to his army, in which he said — " Soldiers, I shall 
myself direct your battalions ; if with your accustomed 
bravery, you carry confusion and .disorder among the hos- 
tile ranks, I shall keep out of the fire. But if the victory 
is for a moment uncertain you will see your Emperor in the 

front of your ranks" " This," said Napoleon, as he threw 

down the pen, " is the noblest evening of my life : but I shall 
lose too many of these brave fellows to-morrow." 

CI. 

The whole camp had risen, and there could be no more 
sleep that night. Napoleon again mounted, and calling his 
Marshals and Generals together, gave them his orders, and 
the whole army waited for day-break. Towards morning a 
thick fog overspread the vast plain of Austeriitz, and 
covered both armies. This omen cast a gloom for a moment 
over the French battalions. But when the sun came up it 



142 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 

rolled the mists into heaven, and flooded the field of Auster- 
litz with splendor. A single glance told that both armies 
were ready for conflict. 

Napoleon was at this instant surrounded by his Lieu- 
tenants, and at a word. Marshals Davoust, Lannes, Soul^, 
and Bernadotte and Prince Murat flew to lead their divi 
sions to battle ; while Napoleon himself with Marshal Ber- 
thier, Junot and all his staff", with ten battalions of his 
Guard, and ten battalions of Oudinot's grenadiers, and forty 
pieces of cannon, made up the reserve,, ready to strike 
wherever they could decide the fortunes of the dav. Such 
were the scenes being enacted on the French side. 

Across the plain glittered a not less confident, and still 
more numerous host — under the eyes and orders of the 
Emperors of Russia and Austria, and led by the Princes and 
Marshals of two Empires. Two mightier or more magnifi- 
cent armies never met in the shock of battle. 

CII. 

Piding along the lines on one of his fleetest horses, Na- 
poleon said — " Soldiers, we must end the campaign to-day 
with a thunderbolt." " Long live the Emperor,'^ rang 
from 80,000 men, drowning the blast of the bugles which 
sounded to battle. Two hundred heavy cannon opened 
their fire ; powerful divisions engaged both wings of the 
enemy, and Murat charged the centre with his dreadful 
cavalry. For one hour two hundred thousand heroes strug- 
gled for the supremacy of Europe. -The line of battle 
swayed to and fro over the plain like a prairie on fire. 
The soul of Napoleon seemed to have passed into his 
entire army, and wherever his columns charged, they 
trampled whole battalions on the plain. Division after 
division gave way, and from the heights of Austerlitz the 



MEETING OF THE EMPERORS. 1+3 

two allied Eraperors saw their army broken and put to 

flight. 

cm. 

The whole conflict had been one of terror ; but when the 
Cossack host fled from the field, even Napoleon turned away 
from the sight. The right wing which had longest contested 
the day, and made Lannes with Murat's cavalry recoil three 
times from their deadly onset, were driven at last into a 
hollow, where they attempted to escape across a lake on the 
ice. Many had fallen, but 20,000 were in full flight. Na- 
poleon's batteries were trained on their track, and a heavy 
cannonade broke the ice, and they sunk forever ! The ruin 
was so complete, it seemed more like the destruction of the 
host of Senacharib by the breath of Heaven, than the work 
of man. The allied Emperors with the shattered remnants 
of their army of 100,000 men, fled in terror from the field. 
Thus ended the Battle of Austerlitz, or, as the victorious 
French grenadiers always persisted in calling it — the 
Battle of the Emperors. 

CIV. 

At midnight the flying Emperors halted for council, and 
it was decided to dispatch a messenger to Napoleon before 
day-light, with proposals for peace. The envoy was courte- 
ously received, and arrangements were made for a meeting 
of the Austrian and French Emperors, the following day. 

They met at ten o'clock near a mill, about three leagues 
from Austerlitz, each sovereign being attended by his suite 
and guards. Being first on the ground, Napoleon ordered 
two fires to be made, and with a squadron of his Guard 
drawn up at a distance of about two hundred paces, ho 
awaited the arrival of Francis. He soon came in sight, 
accompanied by several princes and generals, and an escort 



144 NAP0LE02^ BOlsAPAETE. 

of Hungarian cavalry who halted as the French had done. 
Napoleon walked to Francis' landau and embraced him, and 
both Emperors, with only two attendants — Prince John of 
Lichtenstein near Francis, and Marshal Berthier near Napo- 
leon — went to the fire. Meantime the suite of the two 
sovereigns drew around the other fire which had been made 
a few paces distant across the highway. 

The interview lasted an hour, when the two sovereigns 
separated after a mutual embrace — Napoleon saying, in the 
hearing of the gentlemen of the suites — " I agree to it ; but 
your Majesty must promise not to make war on me again." 
" No, I promise you I will not," was Francis' reply, — " and 
I will keep my word." He did make war again on France 
as soon as he dared, and thus, one by one, did every sove- 
reign in Europe violate his honor and faith. It was most 
definitively understood that the Emperor of Eussia, although 
not present, was to give his adhesion to the armistice just 
concluded by his ally of Austria. He so assured Marshal 
Davoust, who had pursued him the night of the battle, and 
now held him in his power with the entire remnant of his 
army. But subsequent events only showed that the Eussian 
had descended to the meanness of a lie to save himself. 



cv. 

But Napoleon believed the " royal word" of the Hapsburgh 
Emperor, and allowed the Eussians to retire unmolested to 
their own territory. He soon after concluded the Treaty 
of Pressburgh with Francis, [December 15, 1805], and 
another treaty with Prussia [December 26,] at Vienna, 
wiiich he supposed would secure to all Europe the blessings 
of peace. 

As a matter of course the victor of AusterUtz made his 
own terms in these negotiations. Austria gave up the last 



napoleon's emure. l45 

of her Italian usurpations to be annexed to the kingdom of 
Italy, and the Tyrol to Bavaria, and yielded to other stipu- 
lations which the Conqueror demanded. But the modera- 
tion of Napoleon in the moment of victory excited the sui- 
prise and admiration of Europe. 

cvi. 

To show the duplicity and treachery of the Russian Em- 
peror, it is necessary only to state, that the news soon 
reached Napoleon of the joint entry of the English and Rus- 
sian forces into Naples. Before an hour had passed Napo- 
leon had come to a decision which made the treacherous 
Bourbons of Naples exiles from their throne. He dispatched 
couriers to the army of Italy, ordering them to prepare to 
march, and to his brother Joseph at Paris, to lead them to 
Naples — drive out its tyrants, and take possession of the 
throne himself. His orders were obeyed ! 

cvii. 

The Campaign of Austerlitz consolidated the Empire of 
Napoleon, and when he returned to France he witnessed a 
delirium of exultation and joy. Then followed scenes of 
splendor and pageantry Europe had not witnessed since 
the gorgeous days of the Crusades. Wherever the victo- 
rious Eagles of Napoleon had gone, new Thrones, Dukedoms, 
Principalities and Sceptres arose for his kinsmen and heroes. 
Europe would have pomp and tinsel, and Napoleon gave 
them to her. He matched the blood of the people with the 
blood of princes — he substituted the genuine aristocracy of 
nature for the false aristocracy of birth. Daily Edicts inau- 
gurated new kingdoms, and proclaimed new kings. Coro- 
nation succeeded coronation, royal alliance followed royal 
alliance, each attended by brilliant fetes, until Europe 



J 46 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 

seenied to have become but a vast theatre gazing on the Im* 
perial Drama Napoleon was enacting at Paris. 

CVIII. 

But the honest republican, or the man of real progress, 
penetrates this glittering vail of flimsy splendor, to discover 
what substantial monuments — what noble institutions, what 
great public works were slowly rising in the back-ground — 
dimmed for the moment by the glare of crowns and fetes— ■ 
that would survive the wreck of this gossamer structure, 
and endure to bless mankind when every dj^nasty of Europe 
shall have crumbled. We will briefly glance at some of 
these enduring things, all of which were rapidly advancing — 
undisturbed by the convulsions of Europe. 

CIX. 

We will enumerate them in the language of Napoleon 
himself. " The magnificent docks of Antwerp and Flushing, 
capable of containing the most numerous fleets, and shelter- 
ing them both from the fury of the tempest and the -attacks 
of the enemies — the hydraulic works of Dunkirk, Havre and 
Nice — the gigantic harbor of Cherbourg — -the maratime 
works in Venice — the beautiful roads from Antwerp to 
Amsterdam — the plan and commencement of the canal in- 
tended to connect Amsterdam with Hamburg and the 
Baltic — the roads along the banks of the Rhine — the road 
from Bourdeaux to Bayonne — the passes of the Simplon, 
Mont-Cenis, Mont-Geneve, and the Comiche, which open 
up the Alps in four directions, are Avorks which exceed in 
boldness, grandeur and art, anything ever attempted by the 
Romans. The Bridges of Jena, Austerlitz, Sevres and 
Mours — that over the Durance — those over Bordeaux, 
Moissac, Rouen Turin and Lisere — the canal which con- 



147 

nects the Rhine and the Rhone by the Doubs, and unites the 
German Ocean with the Mediterranean — ^^that which unites 
the Scheldt and the Somme and forms a channel for com- 
merce between Amsterdam and Paris — that which joins the 
Ranee and the Vilaine — the canal of Aries, that of Pavia, 
and that of the Rhine — the draining of the marshes of Bour- 
goin, Cotentin and Rochefort — the works undertaken for 
draining the Pontine Marshes, which would have been com- 
pleted in 1820- — the rebuilding and reparation of almost all 
the churches in France, demolished or injured in the Revo- 
lution — the construction in eighty-three departments, of 
buildings, as establishments for the extirpation of mendicity, 
by offering work and a refuge to the poor against the in- 
firmities of age and the evils of destitution — the embellish- 
ments of Paris, the Louvre, the Exchange — the square on 
the Quai d'Orsay, the triumphal arch of the Barriere de 
r Etoile, the granaries, the Madeleine, the canal of Ourg, 
and the subterraneous channels for the distribution and the 
construction of sewers — the restoration of the monuments 
of Rome — the re-establishment of the manufactories of Lyons 
and the reconstruction of its buildings and streets destroyed 
in 1793 — the erection of many hundred manufactories of 
cotton, of beet-root sugar, or of wood, all raised by the aid 
of millions supplied from the civil list — 50,000,000 employed 
in repairing and embellishing the palaces of the crown — 
60,000,000 in furniture placed in the royal residences in 
France, Holland, Turin and Rome — 60,000,000 in diamonds 
as a dotation to the crown of France, all purchased- with my 
treasures — the Musee Napoleon estimated at more than 
400,000,000, created by my victories, and containing nothing 
but objects legitimately acquired by treaties ; — these are the 
monuments left by my passage ; and history will record that 
all this was accomplished in the midst of continual wars, 



148 NAPOLEON BOXAPARTE. 

without a loan, whilst the public debt was in the course of 
extinction every year with a normal budget of less than 
800,000,000 for more than 40,000,000 of people in the Em- 
pire, and when the army amounted to 600,000 men, with the 
crews of 100 sail of the line." 

ex. 

At this period, if Napoleon had attempted to play the 
same game as England, he could have realized his dream of 
a second Norman Conquest. Through storms and tempests, 
it is all vain to say, that he could not have landed on the 
shores of England ; and had he done so, it is equally vain 
to say, that he could not with so mighty an army — flushed 
with so many victories, have made an onset Avhich Engiaiid 
[always lacking in a well-organized militia,] could not have 
resisted. Meantime the King of Sweden, having landed 
with an army in Germany, and besieged a garrison of Ber- 
nadotte. Napoleon decided to dethrone the dynasty of Gus- 
tavus, and he finally accomplished his purpose. 

CXI. 

One of the most important consequences of the Battle of 
Austerlitz, was the Confederation of the Rhine. The Kings 
of Bavaria and Wurtemberg, Murat the Grand Duke of 
Berg, and several other sovereigns of Germany, had leagued 
together in an alliance Avith the French Empire ; and tliey 
constituted so formidable a power, Napoleon added a new 
title to his name — the Protector of this Confederacy. From 
this moment the boasted Empire of the Cgesars, which 
had been assumed by the Ilapsburgh Kace — fell to rise no 
more. 

Thus Napoleon became Sovereign of a principal part of 
Germany, and his allies were obliged to furnish at his call 



DEATH OF PITT. 149 

60,000 armed men. Thus ended tlie " Holy Roman Empire," 
which had existed a thousand years. 

Lockhart, [Sir Walter Scott's son-in-law, and whose Life 
of Napoleon is but a feeble paraphrase of Scott's], says — 
" Mr. Pitt, who despaired of opposing Bonaparte on the 
Continent after3Iarengo, did not long survive the disastrous 
intelligence of Austerlitz. Worn out and broken by the 
endless anxieties of his situation, not even the glorious tidings 
of Trafalgar, could revive the sinking spirit of this great 
minister. He died the 23d of January, 1806." 

CXII. 

A.nd well it was for England when he died. The bril- 
liancy of his genius had well nigh wrecked his country. 
This was the man who gambled three thousand million dol- 
lars in the game of crushing Republics, and drenched the 
Continent with blood, " to restore the ancient order of things!^ 
now rendered impossible. He might as well have fought 
for the dynasty of Mohammed, or the altars of Zoroaster. 
Bourbons had become as impossible in Europe as Haroun 
Al Raschid ! So, too, at a later day, died Castlereagh — • 
with less genius, and more crime, but not more besotted by 
the foolery of Jesuitical policy. 

CXIII. 

Fox went to Pitt's funeral at Westminster Abbey ; and 
became Premier of Great Britain. He had boldly charged 
the rupture of the Peace of Amiens on his great antagonist — 
Pitt ; and he confidently assured England on his accession 
to power, that she Avould enjoy the blessings of peace. But 
finding himself environed with the ties and attractions of 
office, he could not disinihrall himself from the influence of 
Pitt's policy, and tnis sturdy Liberal at last became a reviler 



150 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 

of the Man of Austerlitz — whom he had once so valorously 
defended. Fox would not treat with Napoleon till he gave 
up Malta ! — Napoleon would neither do this nor recall his 
brother from the throne of Naples, and — Fox died. 

CXIY. 

Meantime countless intriguers in the British Court were 
stirring the embers of the half-smothered fire on the Conti- 
Dent, and over the graves of Pitt and Fox — whose ashes 
were now peacefully reposing side by side in Westminster 
Abbey — they lit again the torch of war, which brought half 
a million of men once more to the field of battle. 

Prussia had intrigued, evaded, and descended to the most 
dishonorable tricks for eighteen months. " The beautiful 
Queen of Prussia and Prince Louis, brother of the King, 
two characters whose high and romantic qualities rendered 
them the delight and pride of the nation, were foremost to 
nourish and kindle the popular indignation. The young 
nobility and gentry rose in tumult, broke the windows of 
the ministers who were supposed to lean to the French in- 
terest, and openly whetted their sabres on the threshold- 
stone of Napoleon's Ambassador." 

Such is the account we find in Leckhart's Napoleon. He 
even tells us exultingly, that " The lovely queen appeared 
in the uniform of the regiment which bore her name, aud 
rode at its head !" 

cxv. 

Again the Jesuit Emperor of Russia, who had saved him 
self by the basest of lies, visited Prussia, and altliough it is 
not said that the farce of perjury was a,Q:ain enacted over ihe 
coffin of the Great Frederick yet he plied the pliant King 
with all the motives he could bring to his aid. By his side, 



THE BATTLE OF JENA. 151 

too, stood tlie English Envoy, with his money-bag in hand, 
offering all the gold the campaign would require ! 

Such were the tricks and provocations which once more 
woke up the French Emperor from his dream of peace, and 
compelled him for the fourth time to dictate from the field 
of victory the terms of an armistice to the shattered Mon- 
archies of Europe. 

cxvi. 

Again the Hero of Austerlitz set his army of Grenadiers 
and Marshals in motion. They marched by three divisions — 
under Soult and Ney ; Murat, Bernadotte and Davoust ; and 
Lannes and Augereau. The first news the truce-breaking 
King of Prussia received of the presence of Napoleon in his 
dominions was from the explosion of the magazines of Nau- 
emberg, and the battle of Saalfield, in which his brother 
fell. On the evening of the 13th October, [1806 j. Napoleon 
with his army, pitched his tent on the field of Jena. His 
heavy train of cannon was forty hours' march behind, and 
something had to be done at once. Behind him rose a ledge 
of rocks, and foreseeing that his light field-pieces might there 
atone for the want of larger guns, he set his men at work, 
to cut a road up through the rocks, where they dragged 
their guns and planted a battery, which was to command 
the field on the coming day. 

cxvii. 

The Emperor of the French passed the whole night with 
his army ; helped drag the guns to the cliffs, and recalling 
the inspiring souvenirs of former campaigns, robbed his bat- 
talions of repose, and transported them witli impatient rap- 
ture for the day-break of another victory. Augereau coiu- 
manded the right wing-^Soult the left, and Lannes the cen- 



162 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 

tre, and Murat tlie reserve of cavalry, whose onset among 
wearied and heated columns was to decide the day. 

Again, as at Austerlitz, a cloud of mist enveloped the con- 
tending hosts ; and both armies were closing in battle be- 
fore the sun revealed to either commander the divisions of 
his foe. 

Marshal Soult received the first charge of the Prussians, 
and it was a doubtful struggle — hand to hand. But Noy's 
division drove the Prussians back. The Sun had now 
mounted the heavens, and so brilliantly that nothing but the 
smoke of battle obstructed the view. 

Napoleon saw the position of both armies, and ordered a 
simultaneous charge throughout the lines. The Prussians 
withstood the shock, and fought with the heroism of patri- 
otic despair. At last Napoleon, who with a spy-glass in his 
hand, [the one he always used in battle, and with which he 
could read the expression of a man, at a great distance], 
saw where a bold charge would decide the battle, ordered 
Murat to advance with his cavalry. A single blast of 
the bugle was enough. The chafing squadrons that had 
been snuffing the smoke of battle for hours, leaped to the 
contest and dashed through the lines. The Prussian 
columns were broken — infantry, cavalry, guards and grena- 
diers, were wrapped in a winding-sheet of smoke and death. 
When the conflict ended, and the fresh north breeze lifted 
the battle-cloud from the plain, 20,000 Prussians were dead 
or taken ; with 300 cannon, sixty royal standards, and 
twenty generals. Thus was defeated, an army of 150,000 
men ; and thus the Prussian Monarchy lay at the feet of the 
Conqueror. 

CXVIII. 

It was the hour for a terrible revenge, and the occasion 
invited it ; but Napoleon invariably displayed m.ore mode 



CONQUEST OF PRUSSIA. 153 

ration in the moment of yictory than at ahnost any other 
time in his life. On the bloody field of Jena, the routed 
divisions that had escaped, soon afterward fell into the 
hands of the French as they roamed over thg country. 
At Erfurth, Mollendorf and the Prince of Orange-Fulda 
laid down their arms. General Kalkreuth's corps was over- 
taken among the Hartz mountains, and Prince Eugene 
surrendered to Marshal Bernadotte. Prince Hohenlohe 
yielded his arms at Prenzlow, with a division of 20,000 men, 
and even the indomitable Blucher lost 4,000 men at Lubeck, 
and was finally compelled to surrender. The fortresses of 
Stellno, Hamelin, Custrin, Spandau and Madgeburg capitu- 
lated. 

cxix. 

Napoleon entered Berlin, [October 25, 1806], and with 
the exception of Koningsberg, whither the flying King 
of Prussia had found refuge, the dominions of the House of 
Brandenburg had departed. Then, more especially than 
now, Prussia was a military state, and the people regarded 
the destruction of the army as the overthrow of the Mon- 
archy itself. This campaign had lasted but a week. Na- 
poleon had marked his stay at Berlin by what afterwards 
became so famous as the "Berlin Decrees," by which he 
attempted to establish the continental system, whose object 
was to shut out the commerce and intercourse of Great 
Britain from the Continent of Europe. The utter ruin 
of the maratime power of France, and the almost universal 
supremacy of the French Empire on the land, left Napoleon, 
in his own judgment, no other means of retaliation, and 
through the continental system he endeavored for several 
years most strenuously to annihilate all commercial inter- 
course between Great Britain and the Continent. 



154 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 

CXX. 

At this moment, Napoleon had but to proclaim the union 
and independence of ancient Poland, and he would still have 
preserved, the prestige of constitutional liberty, and the in- 
dependence of nations — those great principles for which 
France had been compelled to fight so long, and to whose 
vindication he had himself devoted the mightiest energies of 
his character. The dismemberment of Poland by the tyrants 
of Europe, had inflamed the indignation of mankind ; and 
not only the Poles, but the friends of Poland in every part 
of the world, now believed that the hour had come fqr her 
restoration. The veteran Koskiusco, who had been for half- 
a-century the Chevalier Bayard of Liberty, battling for it 
among the frosts of the Niemen under the standard of his 
country, and by the side of Washington in the forests of the 
New World — he, too, believing the hour of Poland's emanci- 
• pation was sounding, sent an address to his countrymen from 
Paris, on the 1st of November, in which he said — " Beloved 
Countrymen and Friends ! Arise ! The Great Nation is be- 
fore you — Napoleon expects, and Koskiusco calls on you. 
We are under the segis of the monarch who vanquishes 
difficulties as by miracles, and the resurrection of Poland is 
too glorious an achievement not to have been reserved for 
him by the Eternal." At the same time, several distin- 
guished Polish Generals in the French army sent through 
their country a proclamation which said — " Poles ! Napo- 
leon, the Great, the Invincible, enters our country with an 
army of 300,000 men. Without wishing to fathom the 
mystery of his views, let us strive to merit his magnanimity, 
I will see,' he said to us, ' whether you deserve to be a 
nation.' Poles ! your Avenger, your Restorer is here. 
Crowd from all quarters to his presence, as children in tears 
hmsten to behold a succoring father. Present to him your 



BATTLE OF EYLAW. 155 

hearts, your arms. Rise, to a man, and prove that you do 

not grudge your blood to your country." Napoleon also, in 

one of his own bulletins said — " Shall the throne of Poland 

be re-established, and shall the Great Nation secure for it 

aspect and independence ? Shall she recall it to life from 

he grave ? God only, who directs all human affairs, can 

esolve this great mystery." 

cxxi. 

In our brief record we cannot trace the progress of events 
which, for a-while, promised the independence of Poland, 
but left her at last most cruelly disappointed and deceived. 
Toward the close of December, the Russian army with 
powerful reinforcements, came to battle, and made a gallant 
stand against the French army at Pultusk. Other battles 
and skirmishes followed, but none of them were decisive. 
On the whole, perhaps the advantage lay on the side of Na- 
poleon's antagonists, for they had restoreti their communica- 
tion with the King of Prussia at Koningsberg, and the French 
Emperor saw that another day of Austerlitz or Jena alone, 
could end the campaign. Napoleon moved from his winter- 
quarters at Warsaw, and on the 8th of February, [1807], at 
day-break, the battle of Eylaw began. The French now 
had to contend, during a wild snow-storm, with one of 
the most gallant armies they had ever met. This terrible 
battle lasted fourteen hours, and only closed just before 
midnight, leaving both armies where they had stood in the 
morning, with 50,000 men lying on the plain between them. 
Napoleon's bulletins claimed a great victory, and the Rus- 
sians did the same. The next morning showed in whose 
favor fortune had decided the day. Although the Russians 
had taken twelve of Napoleon's eagles, tliey retreated an 
hour after the battle, on the road towards Koningsberg, 



166 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 

Seige was laid to Dantzic, and that fortified town capitu- 
lated on the 7th of May, 1807. 

CXXII. 

Meantime finding that his forces were insufficient to pros- 
trate the enemy at a single blow, the French Emperor with 
the greatest celerity concentrated his armies from, differen 
parts of the Empire, and by the 1st of June he had an ef- 
fective force of not less than 280,000 men to lead to battle. 
On the 14th of June, after having escaped all the snares laid 
for them, the subtle genius of Napoleon compelled the Rus- 
sians to battle. From ten o'clock in the morning until four 
P. M., these two mighty armies were closed in the struggle 
of one of the bloodiest days the fields of Europe had ever 
witnessed. For six hours the Russian line had sustained 
charge after charge, and had neither recoiled nor broken 
before infantry or cavalry. Napoleon from his point of ob- 
servation near the battle-field, had witnessed the failure of 
every stratagem and the charge of every division, and at 
last finding the day wasting away, and his army melting 
under the merciless butchery of the Russians, he rode across 
the plain and led the whole French army to the final charge. 
There was not a general nor a marshal in his Empire under 
whom the imperial troops would not behave gallantly, but 
when the Emperor put himself at the head of his army, and 
led them to the charge, nothing could resist the shock. 
Gradually the Russian army began to yield, and in less than 
an hour the rout was complete. They leff the field and re 
treated towards the Niemen. Thus ended the Battle ob 
Friedland. 

cxxin. 

Alexander sent [June 21,] his lieutenant to ask for an 
armistice, which was ratified, on the 23d ; and, two days 



TREATY OF TILSIT. 157 

after^ -iie Emperors met on a raft in the river Niemen, near 
Tilsit, the town which gave its name to this celebrated 
Treaty The King of Prussia was admitted as a party to 
the treh ty, but on condition that he, with Alexander, should 
sign such stipulations in regard to states and territories 
and the Continental System, as the victor was inclined to 
impose. 

CXXIY. 

These two vast armies, which had so lately mingled in 
the shock of battle, were now quartered with their generals 
in the same town, where a succession of imperial fetes, 
spectacles and celebrations was witnessed, which more re- 
sembled the magniiicent tableaux of peace and splendor in the 
Capital of the French Empire, than the impromptu festivals 
of two hostile monarchs, meeting in a small town on the 
cold banks of the Niemen. The " beautiful and fascinating 
Queen of Prussia" was present with her husband, and every 
stratagem which wit or genius could devise, and every fasci- 
nation to which beauty could lend a charm, were brought 
into requisition to win at least the admiration, of the French 
Emperor ; but she had more than a Mark Anthony to deal 
with. His Cleopatra was holding her Imperial Court at the 
Tuilleries, waiting with impatience the return of her hus- 
band from another glorious campaign. The Queen was 
treated Avith neglect, if not with rudeness by the Conqueror. 
Foiled in her ambition, she could not survive the humilia- 
tion. She died soon after of chagrin — a malady which often 
proves as fatal to monarchs and princes as ordinary diseases 
to common people. 

CXXY. 

There has probably never been a period in history when 
the passions of so many millions were lashed into fury bv 



158 NArOLEON BOXAPARTE. 

tlie storms of battle and revolution. In reading the records 
of events, some of whicli we have glanced at thus far, it is 
difficult to conceive how there could have been one quiet 
hearth-stone on the Continent. Grief, disappointment, cha- 
grin, mortification, betrayal, wounded pride and disappointed 
ambition, were almost as fatal perhaps to human life in 
Europe for a quarter of a century, as the carnage of battle 
itself. On the ratification of the Treaty of Tilsit, [July Tth], 
Napoleon constructed from his conquests,- the Kingdom of 
Westphalia for Jerome, who had finally been restored to his 
brother's favor, by divorcing his beautiful and accomplished 
American wife. Having now wrung from the last of his 
reluctant enemies, except England, the recognition of his 
imperial power, which already embraced a wider territory 
and a far greater number of subjects than Charlemagne 
ruled over as the Emperor of the West a thousand years 
before, Napoleon hastened back to Paris, where the fetes and 
celebrations in honor of his achievements, dazzled the eyes 
of the world, and beggared sober description. Once more 
peace had come to the agitated and bleeding nations of 
Europe, and Napoleon with that restless activity which 
could not know repose, once more bent all his genius upon 
the civil progress of France, and Europe, with the same 
intensity that he prosecuted his military campaigns. He 
marshaled and controlled institutions as irresistibly, as 
rapidly, and with the same effect as he did battalions, in 
war. As some minute and exact idea of^the man ought to 
be communicated to the reader of every Life of Napoleon, we 
have searched in vain for any which seemed to us more just 
or better executed than we find from the pen of an English 
historian who has never been accused of writing too favora- 
bly of Napoleon. 



CHARACTER OF XAPOLEON. 159 

CXXTI. 

Lockhart says — " "WHiereYer the Emperor was, in the 
midst of his hottest campaigns, he examined the details of 
administration at home, more closely perhaps than other 
sovereigns of not half so great an Empire did during periods 
of the profoundest peace. His dearest amusement when he 
had nothing else to do, was to solve problems in geometry 
or algebra. He carried this passion into every department 
of affairs, and having with his own eye detected some errors 
in the public accounts soon after his administration began, 
there prevailed thenceforth in all the financial records of 
the State, such accuracy as is not often exemplified in the 
aiiairs of a large private fortune. Nothing was below his 
attention, and he found time for everything. The humblest 
functionary discharged his duty under a lively sense of the 
Emperor's personal superintendence ; and the omnipotence 
of his police came in lieu of the guarding powers of a free 
press, a free senate, and public opinion. Except in political 
causes, the trial by jury was the right of every citizen. The 
Code Xapoleox, that elaborate system of jurisprudence, in 
the formation of which the Emperor labored personally along 
with the most eminent lawyers and enlightened men of the 
time, was a boon of inestimable value to France. ' I shall go 
down to posterity,' said he, with just pride, ' with the Code in 
my hand.' It was the first uniform system of laws the French 
monarchy had ever possessed, and being drawn with consum- 
mate skill and wisdom, it at this day forms the Code not only 
of France, but of a great portion of Europe besides. Justice 
as between man and man, was administered on sound and 
fixed principles, and by unimpeached tribunals. * * Edu- 
cation became a part of the regular business of the State : 
all the schools and colleges being placed under the imme- 
diate care of one of Napoheon's ministers, all prizes and bur 



loO JJfAPOLEOX BONAPARTE. 

saries bestowed by the government, and tlie whole system so 
arranged, that it was hardly possible for any youth who 
exhibited remarka.ble talents, to avoid the temptations to 
a military career which on every side surrounded him. * * 
In the splendor of his victories, in the magnificence of his 
roads, bridges, aqueducts, and other monuments, in the gene 
ral pr<3dominance to which the nation seemed to be raised 
through the genius of its chief, compensation was found for 
all financial burdens, consolation for all domestic calamities, 
and an equivalent for that liberty, in whose name the tyrant 
had achieved his first glories. But it must not be omitted 
that Napoleon in every department of his government, made 
it his first rule to employ the men best fitted, in his mind, to 
do honor to his service, by their talents and diligence. * * 
He gratified the French nation, by adorning the capital, and 
by displaying in the Tuilleries a court as elaborately mag- 
nificent as that of Louis XIY. himself. The old nobility re- 
turning from their exile, mingled in those proud halls with 
the heroes of the Revolutionary campaigns, and over all the 
ceremonials of these stately festivities, Josephine presided 
with the grace and elegance of one born to be a queen. In 
the midst of the pomp and splendor of a court, in the ante- 
chambers where kings jostled each other, Napoleon himself 
preserved the plain and unadorned simplicity of his original 
dress and manners. The great Emperor continued through- 
out to labor more diligently than any subaltern in of- 
fice. * * Napoleon as Etnperor had little time for social 
pleasures. His personal friends were few : his days were 
given to labor, and his nights to study. If he was not with 
his army in the field, he traversed the provinces, examining 
with his own eyes into the minutest details of arrangement, 
and even from the centre of his camp he was continually 
issuino; edicts which showed the accuracy of his observation 



Napier's views. 161 

during those journeys, and his anxiety to promote by any 
means consistent with his great purpose, the welfare of every 
French district, town, or even village. The manners of the 
court Avere at least decent. Napoleon occasionally indulged 
in amours unworthy of his character, and tormenting to his 
Avifc ; but he never suifered any other female to possess the 
{^lightest influence over his mind : nor insulted public opinion 
by any approach to that system of unveiled debauchery 
which had, during whole ages, disgraced the Bourbon court, 
and undermined their throne." 

CXXVII. 

Such was ^ Napoleon in the height of his Empire, as he 
stands drawn by the pen of his enemies. Up to this moment 
we have followed him in his career vv^ith rejoicing and satis- 
faction — hitherto we have traveled with him along a sunny 
and exulting path. Now we shall follow him as he be- 
gins to enter the eclipse, from which he will never emerge. 
The day has gone by when historians who have any reputa- 
tion to lose, charge upon Napoleon the blame of the wars of 
France up to the peace of Tilsit. There can scarcely be a 
higher authority to quote on this point than that of Napier, 
himself an actor in many of the scenes he describes, an 
honest, educated, bold, philosophical man. He says — " Up 
to the peace of Tilsit, the wars of France were essentially 
defensive ; for the bloody contest that wasted the Conti- 
nent so many years, was not a struggle for pre-eminence 
between ambitious powers — not a dispute for some acquisi- 
tion of territory — nor for the political ascendency of one or 
another nation — but a deadly conflict to determine whether 
aristocracy or democracy should predominate — whether aris- 
tocracy or privilege should henceforth be the principle of 
European governments." 



162 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 

CXXVIII. 

Napoleon, at this moment, stood on an eminence liiglier 
tlian any human being had ever climbed to. There was 
more power, vitality, genius and glory, in his Empire, than 
in any of the Empires that had overshadoAyed the earth ; 
and had he died at this moment, honest history would have 
been his unclouded eulogy. Hitherto he had displayed ab- 
solute control over himself. His glory had been the glory 
of France and of Europe. He had asserted and established 
among the nations of the Old World, those eternal princi- 
ples of justice and independence which they have so recently 
been struggling to vindicate ; but his future career, although 
flashing with the most brilliant achievements, probably did 
nothing to exalt or preserve his fame ; we shall continue, 
however, to trace him, briefly, as he leaves the sunny heights 
of his unsullied grandeur, for the clouded and stormy path, 
down which he went darkling to his fall. 

We turn to Spain, whose momentary conquest constitutes 
the next great act in the wonderful drama we are tracing. 
That ancient monarchy, which once extended its arms 
around the globe, resting upon the Indies in the East and- 
the Indies in the West, for two bases of its collosal power, 
had slowly descended to her decadence ; and there lay the 
mastadon remains of this effete Monarchy of the Middle 
Ages, lacerated by the Inquisition, corrupted by gold, and 
made effeminate by inactivity, crushed by tyrants and stulti- 
fied by the besotting reign of the priests? Charles lY., the 
old and imbecile Bourbon King, sa^y his nuptial-bed dis 
graced by Godoy, who had been raised by the guilty love 
of the Queen, from the ranks of a guardsman to the embraces 
of the most dissolute Avoman in Europe. To complete the 
infamy, a royal decree had conferred upon him a rank supe- 
rior to that of all the Grandees of Spain — the Prince of the 



THE COURT OF MADRID. 163 

Peace. The royal palace at Madrid was a lazar-liouse of 
moral corruption. Scenes of the most disgusting and beastly 
immoralities were perpetrated in the apartments of the 
Queen, and even Monarchy itself all over Europe turned 
away in disgust from the loathsome spectacle. Yenality 
and corruption had annihilated every sentiment of honesty, 
and every prompting of conscience. Ferdinand, the crown- 
Prince, with most of the 'vices of the court, and with some- 
thing of the spirit of youth about him, had formed a party 
against his father, and was attempting to dethrone him. 
Murderers, with daggers dripping in blood, courtiers en- 
veloped in an atmosphere of lies, and courtesans with shame- 
less effrontery, filled the halls of the royal palace at Madrid, 
and dictated laws to the crumbling Monarchy of Arragon 
and Castile. 

cxxix. 

Over the fall of such a State, no lamentations have come 
from history written in any other .part of the world than 
England. Sir Arthur Wellesly had been recalled from the 
East Indies, where he had achieved all his fame hitherto by 
a career of robbery and crime, extortion, murder and the 
extinction of nations, compared with which Napoleon's 
worst acts of usurpation in the height of his ambition paled 
into insignificance. And here we will allow truth to arrest 
us for a single moment, while we enter our protest against 
any of the complaints of England or of English writers 
about the usurpations of Napoleon. For the sole purpose 
of self aggrandizement, England has robbed more territory, 
taken more lives, confiscated more property, enslaved more 
men, and wrought wider and darker ruin on the plains of 
Asia, than Napoleon can ever be charged with, if upon his 
single head were to rain down the curses of every widow 



164 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 

and orplian made in Europe for a quarter of a century. It 
is unholy mockery of truth — it is Puritanic cant — it is Eng- 
lish spite against Napoleon's eagles. England began under 
the administration of Pitt the work of crushing the French 
Republic. She kept it up to gratify the ambition and spite 
of her ministers, and she carried it through, to maintain the 
position she had taken. It was all a costly and well nigh 
a fatal mistake for England ; and her historians have no 
business whatever to vent their spleen upon the only man 
on the Continent who set limits to the. proud Empire of 
Britain. 

cxxx. 

Sir Arthur Wellesley, a proud, noble, incorruptible, pa- 
triotic Englishman, had worked more misery for the helpless 
princes, and the millions of India, than any of his con- 
temporaries ; and with these laurels fresh on his head, was 
recalled to help on the crusade against Napoleon. He was 
noAV on the coast of Portugal, waiting an opportunity to 
defeat the designs of Napoleon who had entered into a 
treaty with Spain by which the effete monarchy of the 
Braganzas was to be dismembered. Early in the winter of 
1807, Junot entered Portugal, and the Prince -Regent fled 
from Lisbon to the Brazils, [Feb., 1807], a few hours only 
before the French army came in sight of tlie Capital. Soon 
after, one hundred thousand French troops were quartered 
in Spain. Amidst crimes, corruptions, domestic and national 
oroils, and commotions, old King Charles lY. abdicated, 
and Murat took possession of Madrid, [March 24th], and on 
the 2Cth of April, Ferdinand, who had been duped from the 
beginning, traveled on from stage to stage, expecting to 
meet Napoleon ; but he continued his journey till he reached 
Bayonne, where, after dining with the Emperor, he was in- 
formed by Napoleon's minister that the Bourbons had ceased 



NAPOLEOX'S STRUGGLE IN SPAIN. 165 

to reign in Spain. He was required to resign all his claims 
in favor of Napoleon ; and, from the 5th of May, the old 
King, the shameless Queen and her infamous paramour 
Godoy, enacted such a scene before Napoleon as might well 
justify even an English writer in saying as Lockhart does : — ■ 
' In which the profligate rancor of their domestic feuds 
reached extremities hardly to have been contemplated by 
the Avildest imagination. The flagitious queen did not, it is 
said and believed, hesitate to signify to her son that the 
king was not his father, and this in the presence of that 
king and of Napoleon." 

cxxxi. 

Napoleon, without a cause and without justification, 
seized on the hereditary possessions of this infamous 
family, and had the whole race been blotted from the 
face of the earth, humanity never could have wept over 
their doom. But the attempt to keep Spain cost Na- 
poleon a mighty efi'ort. A dreadful revulsion followed, 
beginning in Madrid, and scenes of massacre succeeded 
throughout all the great cities of Spain, fomented by the 
agents of England, whose navies hung along the coast, in- 
flaming the passions of the multitude, and making the mob the 
executor of her will. Tranquillity, however, was soon re- 
stored by the victorious arms of Napoleon's lieutenants — tlie 
Council of Castile was convoked to elect another sovereign, 
and Joseph Bonaparte was unanimously declared King of 
Spain. He was proclaimed, July 24, 1808, and England at 
once sprang to the contest, concentrating all her power upon 
the Peninsula for a final struggle, as she supposed, with the 
despot of Europe. The French divisions met with repeated 
reverses, and perceiving that nothing but his own presence 
and a more poAverfiil army would restore to his brother's 
reign the auspices of a favorable fortune, the Emperor set 



166 NAPOLEON BOXAPARTE, 

out from Paris, and in flie early part of October, 1808, with 
200,000 veteran troops he entered the Peninsula, recalling 
to the memory of his soldiers the stirring souvenirs which 
lingered around ^he victorious legions of the Roman empire. 
" Comrades !" said Napoleon, " after triumphing on the 
banks of the Danube and the Vistula, with rapid steps you 
have passed through Germany. Let us bear our triumphant: 
Eagles to the Pillars of Hercules, for there too we have our 
injuries to avenge. You have surpassed" the renown of 
modern armies, but have you yet equaled the glory of thbso 
Romans, who in one and the same campaign were victorious 
on the Rhine and the Euphrates, in Illyria and on the Tagus ?'' 
Reaching Vittoria, where sumptuous preparations had been 
provided for him. Napoleon leaped from his horse, en- 
tered the first inn, called for his maps, laid them out on the 
table, and in two hours the whole campaign was decided, 
and the orders for the marching of 200,000 men dispatched. 
On the 4th of December the Emperor entered Madrid. A 
few hours after, amidst rejoicings, fetes, festivals and a gene- 
ral illumination, he issued decrees which abolished the In- 
quisition of the Jesuits, the feudal institutions of the Middle 
Ages, and all tyranny in the Peninsula except his own. 

CXXXII. 

Before his triumphant legions the undisciplined mob ol 
Wellington's armies fled in dismay, each one fighting as best 
he could, and as Anglo-Saxons always will when they must, 
he swept the Peninsula. Sir John Moore, a peerless and a 
noble name, fell back in the retreat on Coruna, and [Jan- 
uary 16, 1809,] he succeeded only in gaining time for hia 
army to embark on the English fleet ; but, in the moment of 
this brilliant achievement, a cannon-shot laid him among the 
ranks of the slain. The shadows of evening had already 



NAPOLEOIs^'S EETUK:?^ FROM SPAITq". 1G7 

fallen over the field of battle, and starlight was glittering 
on the troubled Atlantic which stretched away in its bleak 
expanse to the distant west. His brave and beloved soldiers 
snatched a few moments amidst the precipitation of the 
final hour, and dug his grave and laid their Commander, 
with his battle-mantle for a shroud around him, to his last sleep. 
A Scotch schoolmaster, when he heard the news, among 
other inimitable lines on the burial of Sir John Moore, said, 
falsely — 

*« Lightly they'll talk of the spirit that's gone. 
And o'er his cold ashes upbraid him, 
But nothing he'll reck if they'll let him sleep on 
■ In the grave where the Britons have laid him." 

The next morning the grenadiers of France, who had been 
struck w^ith admiration at the chivalry of the English Com- 
mander, gathered reverently around the new-made grave, 
and, while the English fleet w^ere yet visible on the bosom 
of the Mediterranean, they erected a monument over his 
ashes. 

Thus for a while was the kingdom of Joseph Bonaparte 
secured to him ; but a storm was gathering once more along 
the shores of the Danube, and Napoleon flew by post-horses 
to Paris. He reached his Capital [Jan. 22,] and prepared 
for another campaign against Austria, whose Emperor had 
violated the peace of Tilsit, and soon after [April 6, J de- 
clared war against France. Couriers were dispatched with 
orders to the armies on the Rhine and beyond the Alps, to 
concentrate themselves on the field, and with Josephine only 
in his carriage, Napoleon set out for Strasburg. 

The Archduke Charles was in the field with 450,000 men, 
and on the 13th of April, he took command of the campaign. 
At Landshut [April 21,] the Archduke Lewis was defeated 
with the loss of 9,000 men, thirty cannon and immense 



168 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 

military stores. The victor of Austerlitz tlien fell on the 
Archduke Charles, who was strongly posted at Eckmuhl with 
200,000 men confident of victory. By a succession of most 
admirable movements, all Napoleon's divisions from different 
points were concentrated at the same moment upon the army 
of the Archduke ; they hurried from every point to the one 
of concentration, like clouds meeting from different points 
for a battle in mid-heaven. 

At two o'clock in the afternoon, Napoleon commanded 
and led the charge, and the struggle lasted till twilight, 
ending with the utter defeat of the Archduke's army, and 
leaving Napoleon with 20,000 prisoners, fifteen imperial 
standards, and a vast number of cannon in his hands, while 
the affrighted and decimated army fled back in confusion 
and defeat on the city of Ratisbon. Two days after, the 
Archduke attempted not only to hold that town, but to meet 
Napoleon, and was obliged to give up the place at the 
storming of the walls by the French ; and the Austrian 
commander fled precipitately into Bohemia, abandoning once 
more the Capital of the Austrian Empire to the mercy of 
the Conqueror. Such was the great battle of eckmuhl, 
which has been written by the side of the other brilliant 
victories of Napoleon. 

Some of Napoleon's marshals had committed great faults 
in the disposition of their troops. His army was far inferior 
on numbers to the Austrians, and he had to contend with 
many other and almost insuperable obstacles ; but again his 
genius rose superior to them all, and in five days the cam- 
paign ended. Victory followed victory till the 9th of May, 
when Napole.on approached Vienna ; and, finding resistance 
in entering it, he began to play with his heavy batteries 
upon the city. All the royal family had again fled except 
the young Princess Maria Louisa who was detained by ill- 



BATTLE OF W A GRAM. 169 

ness in the palace. When Napoleon heard of it, he ordered 
that no battery should be directed to that part of the town. 
The next day the capitulation of the Capital was signed. 
His army entered Vienna, and he took up his old quarters 
at Schoenbrunn. Soon after followed the battles of Asperne 
and Essling, neither of which were decisive enough to ac- 
^.omplish his object. 

CXXXIIT. 

By skillful manoeuvering, he concentrated a powerful 
twiy on the 6th of July, near the little town of Wagram, 
w\\vve a long and bloody contest followed. We need not 
describe it. All the artillery and baggage of the enemy 
fell into his hands. The field was covered with the dead 
and wounded, and 20,000 prisoners laid down their arms. 
The Archduke fled into Moravia, and Napoleon returned to 
his quarterns at Schoenbrunn. Although our business in this 
history is n^t to trace the fortunes or achievements of Na- 
poleon's gCDcrals, still we cannot go on without leaving a 
passing tribute over the body of Lannes, the Duke of Monti- 
bello, who lost his life on the day of Asperne. After almost 
superhuman efforts on the field and astonishing heroism on 
a hundred othero, a cannon-ball towards the close of the 
day took off both his legs. The soldiers lifted him as he 
fell, and made him a rude couch ; the surgeon came up and 
declared his wounds to be mortal. In his frenzy he called 
for Napoleon. " My noble Marshal," said the Emperor, " it 
is all over." " Wh&it," replied the dying man, " can't you 
save me ?" He died in delirium some days after — his soul 
passing away amidst the shock of contending armies. Again 
the lion-hearted Commander embraced the dead body of 
Lannes, as he had wept over the dead body of Dessaix on 
the field of Marengo. Another armistice with Austria fol- 



170 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 

lowed, and the final treaty was signed at Sclioenbrunn on the 
14th of October, 1809. Two days later the Emperor left 
Vienna, received the gratulations of the public bodies of 
Paris, [November 14], and the acclamations of an Empire 
which now extended from the Pillars of Hercules to the 
borders of Russia, and from the British Channel to the fires 
of Vesuvius. 

CXXXIV. 

Another act of Napoleon we are called on to record, 
which had no mean agoncy in finally overwhelming his Em^ 
pire. The Pope had reluctantly given his consent to the 
Berlin and Milan Decrees, but Napoleon required his active 
hostility against England. Pius resolutely refused to com- 
ply with this demand, and Napoleon issued the following 
decree :— " Whereas the temporal sovereign of Rome has 
refused to make war against England, and the interests of 
the two kingdoms of Italy and Naples ought not to be 
intercepted by a hostile power, and whereas the donation 
of Charlemange, our illustrious predecessor, of the countries 
which formed the Holy See, was for the good of Christianity 
and not for the enemies of our holy religion, we, therefore, 
decree that the Duchies of Urbino, Ancona, Macerata and 
Camarino be forever united to the Kingdom of Italy." A 
French general took military possession of Rome in Feb- 
ruary, and on the Tth of May, from Vienna, Napoleon de- 
creed the temporal power of the Pope ended, making Rome 
the second imperial city of France. A large pension was 
settled upon Pius, and a civil government was established 
in Rome. The Holy Father now had recourse to his spiritual 
power, and he fulminated a bull of excommunication against 
Napoleon. The reply of the French Emperor was the seizure 
of the Pope's person, and he was transported to Savona in 



DITORCE OF JOSEPHINE. 171 

the Genoese territory wliere, after spending some time in a 
superb villa, and with sumptuous luxuries and attendance he 
was carried to Fontainbleau, where he remained Napoleon's 
prisoner during more than three years. 

CXXXY. 1 

Napoleon's power began to wane the moment he left Spain. 
It received another shock when he made the head of the 
Catholic world a prisoner, but his power might have sur- 
vived these two mistakes, had he not in his imperious pride 
continued to perpetrate others. The next great crime and 
blunder was the divorcement of Josephine. We shall treat 
this subject so fully in the life of Josephine herself, that here 
we shall only glance at it. That Napoleon loved Josephine 
better than any other woman, and that he loved her to the 
last can hardly admit of a doubt. We are equally persuaded 
that he loved France still better, and that he loved his own 
glory and the dynasty of his family better than all. He 
and Josephine had both resigned all hope of her ever bear- 
ing him an heir to his throne. The first son of Hortense 
and Louis, whom Napoleon had designated as his successor, 
had already died, and although he subsequently fixed his 
eye of favor on the infant who now occupies his place in 
the Tuilleries, yet his heart and his ambition longed for a 
nearer and a dearer tie with the being who was to inherit 
his Colossal Empire. He decided, therefore, to divorce 
Josephine ; and the scenes which attended this fatal de- 
cision we shall elsewhere record. 

cxxxvi. 

The judgment which mankind were to pass upon this 
act of divorce was decided by Napoleon's course afterwards ; 
for had he married a daughter of France, or even an imperial 



172 NAPOLEON BOX AP ARTE. 

princess of Russia, he could have done so without the sacri- 
fice of the prestige of the nobility, and even the divinity of 
the people he had so gloriously contended for ; but when it 
was announced that he had contracted an alliance with the 
House of Hapsburgh — that hated, despotic race, against 
whom, and against whose principles he had fought a hundred 
battles, and withal, that he had brought into the Palace of 
the Tuilleries the niece of Marie Antoinette, whose head 
had rolled from the block in the revolution in sight of its 
windows — that day, Napoleon surrendered the great princi- 
ple and prestige of his life. This point is worthy of more 
elaboration than we can in this place bestow upon it ; but 
with the same spirit in which we have already recorded the 
brave and great and good things of Napoleon, we shall here 
assign the reasons why this act was so influential in the pros- 
tration of his power. 

cxxxvii. 

A common impression prevails that the battle of Waterloo 
was the ruin of Napoleon ; but it must be evident to all but 
superficial thinkers, that his ruin was worked by other and 
more powerful causes. While the judgment and sympathies 
of Europe were with him he was invincible. Emperors, 
kings and princes exhausted their treasure^ and set millions 
of armed men in motion against him ; but they had little to 
do with his final downfall. He appeared at a period when 
the foundations of Feudalism were giving way, and the world 
was preparing to enter on a new system of things. Man 
kind had grown weary of despotism, and the earnest pur 
pose had gone forth among the nations, to heave from their 
shoulders the burdens they had carried so long. Royalty 
bad almost ceased to be respected as such, and there was no 
longer divinity in the right of kings. The laws and insti- 



THE NEW AGE. 173 

tu lions of Feudalism, whicli had enslaved the world from 
the dismemberment of the Roman Empire, till the destruc- 
tion of the Bastile, had given way to the eternal law of na- 
ture — that divine Magna Charta in which the political 
equality rf men is clearly written. 

CXXXVIII. 

The Revolution of 1789 was the first signal of the great 
change through which Europe was to pass. Those causes 
which had prepared the world and been hurrying it forward 
to this great change, had worked out their inevitable re- 
sults at an earlier period in France than in any other nation, 
and when she led the way to the new age, she precipitated 
the progress of events, which without any extrinsic causes 
must sooner or later have led to the same results through- 
out Europe. 

cxxxix. 

When the young Corsican led his glittering hosts over the 
Alps, Italy was ready for his coming. The time-worn, 
feudal structure of government and society dissolved at a 
touch. It had served the purposes for which it was estab- 
lished, and it could endure no longer. The General of the 
French Republic was an Italian, and ho was hailed by his 
countrymen as the protector and vindicator and deliverer 
of Italy. From the first moment the sympathies of the Pe- 
ninsula were with him, and all its ancient governments 
found themselves deserted by their people. The former still 
cherished the feelings and acted on the policy of the Feudal 
Age — the latter had felt the shock that woke up the na- 
tions from their long sleep, and fixed their eye on the future. 
Burning with revenge for the wrongs of centuries, and fired 
with new hopes, they roused themselves to achieve their in« 
dependence. Unable to guido the awakened energy of mil- 



174 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 

lions, or to resist its onset, the sovereigns of Italy jBed from 
their dominions, abandoning them in their flight to the first 
bold invader. The old system dissolved at once, and society 
began its rapid transit towards the new order of things. 
The folly and the obstinacy of kings had imposed on society 
the hard alternative of elffecting by convulsion these changes 
which to be well done, should be wrought by the insensibl 
action of time. 

CXL. 

The era of change began, and went on with violence. 
The era of regeneration was to follow, after Europe had 
found repose from the troubles of a quarter of a century. 
Those terrible revolutions, which rocked the world fifty 
years ago, frighten our children when they read them, and 
the recollection of Austerlitz, and Wagram, and Eckmuhl, 
haunt the memory of the actors in those awful scenes. Na- 
poleon had revolutionized, but he had not regenerated Eu- 
rope. If he could have built up the future as easily as he 
laid low the past — if he could have led the nations into 
the land he had shown to them from afar as easily as he had 
led them out of their house of bondage — if he had re- 
deemed the pledge he had given to the confiding millions of 
Europe as truly as they had interpreted it in the beginning, 
he would have been not only the greatest chieftain, but 
tlie greatest benefactor of the modern Avorld. He would 
have united in himself all that we now admire in Han 
nibal and Washington. But at the close- of his astound 
iiig career, mankind felt that they had been deceived 
The warm-hearted soldier, who saw nothing beautiful over 
the field of Marengo, but the glory of France, and his 
peerless Josephine, had grown selfish and iron-hearted. 
Generous and noble feelings had been burned out of his 
soul by the wasting fire? of ambition. Every energy of his 



BEGINNING OF NAPOLEONS DECLINE. 175 

nature had been concentrated in a deathless effort at self- 
uggrandizement. Those mighty passions that had heaved 
his stormy soul on a hundred battle-fields, drifted in a single 
direction ; and when he repudiated Josephine, he repudiated 
Europe. His eye was fixed on a still higher point of glory, 
but his steps were leading him to ruin. He sued for the 
hand of a princess of the House of Hapsburgh, and by that 
act, deliberately gave the lie to all he had ever said and 
done. He married the fresh, the genial, the immortal, the 
glorious, the newly-born future, which all coming ages will 
claim, to the corrupt and effete and putrid corpse of the 
Dark Ages. He abandoned the principles he had professed, 
and betrayed the hopes he had excited. He was subdued 
himself by the very principle against which he had always 
been contending, and he placed himself in antagonism with 
the spirit of his age. 

CXLI. 

From the hour he cast aside the gentle, the genial, the 
kind, and the inimitable Josephine — the Empress of the 
People — sprung from their ranks, and loving them still — the 
ideal of all their virtues and sympathies with none of their 
vices ; reflecting in that imperial salon the impersonation of 
all that humanity ever was proud of or ever adored on the 
earth — from that moment Napoleon lost the confidence to a 
great extent of the friends of liberty and progress, and the 
sympathies of the vindicators of mankind ; and little was 
left of that mighty fabric of power except the heartless 
shadow. His Empire soon dwindled to a standing army, 
and bayonets and cannon he ought to have learned ere now, 
are feeble props to thrones that have nothing else to lean 
upon. It was then, and then only that the Allied Armies 
could contend successfully against him. To all human ap- 



176 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 

pearances, his Empire was far more powerful than ever, for 
he could leave it strongly garrisoned at home, and pour 
half a million of men upon the frozen plains of Eussia ; but 
these were specious appearances. The soul of his Empire 
had departed. The sovereigns of Europe were in league 
against him from the beginning ; but he grew stronger with 
the struggle — for the people were with him ; and while he 
had the public sentiment of the world on his side, he was 
invincible. When in the pride of his power he spurned 
from him the people who had made him, the allied kings 
saw his mistake, and pretended to espouse their cause. 
When he dropped the shout of liberty, they took it up — ■ 
when he ceased to flatter the people with ideas of equality, 
the leagued tyrants bethought themselves of the same trick, 
and in_ fact .they seemed now to have become the vindicators 
of humanity — the champions of popular rights — the de- 
fenders of constitutional liberty. They spread abroad their 
republican banners — made speeches a la deinocrate— they 
renewed in every Capital of Europe the scenes and festivi- 
ties of Republican France, and in Italy and Germany, high- 
born princes encouraged the formation of secret societies 
for the propagation of liberal sentiments, and pretended 
to be proud of the honor of membership. These associa- 
tions spread over Europe. Every art and intrigue was re- 
sorted to, for gaining to their side the sympathies and 
action of liberal minds. We are now only anticipating 
events which eternal justice and philosophy^made inevitable 
consequences of Napoleon's acts ; but we shall reserve for a 
few subsequent pages another duty to humanity, showing 
how his Empire was broken to pieces, aud how the cordon 
of ruin was drawn around him. If we had undertaken to 
write a eulogy on Napoleon, the pen would have fallen from 
our paralyzed hand with the attempt to justify the Cou- 



r.ER^^ADOTTE, KING OF SWEDEN. 177 

queror to whom Heaven had confided such illimitable 
power— in thus betraying the hopes of the world. 

CXLII. 

King Louis, finding that the restraints imposed by his 
brother upon his reign in Holland contravened his con- 
science, threw aside the crown, which had became a burder, 
and retired to private life, and the kingdom was at once ai - 
nexed to the French Empire. Gustavus Adolphus, King of 
Sweden, involved himself in a difficulty with Napoleon, and 
as he was suspected of mental aberration, he was made to 
sign his abdication in favor of his uncle of Sudermania, (who 
took the throne as Charles XHI.), a former ally of Napo- 
leon. The Prince of Augustenburg, the recognized heir to 
the throne, suddenly died, and many reasons rendered not 
only the election of Bernadotte by the Diet according to the 
constitution certain, but being a Protestant by education, 
and a moderate and just man, his election secured tranqui- 
lity and prosperity to Sweden. Napoleon gave his consent, 
although from the 18th Brumaire, he had not regarded Ber- 
nadotte with so much favor as some of his other Marshals. 
The new King received a joyful welcome at Stockholm. 
He continued to preserve as crown-prince the favor of Swe- 
den, and when he finally ascended the throne, he made a 
wise and good king, perhaps for Sweden, but the man Napo- 
leon had dragged from " the dregs of the people,'' betrayed 
his benefactor as soon as he had the opportunity. Mean- 
time the marriage of Napoleon to Maria Louisa had been 
celebrated by proxy at "Vienna, with great splendor, and she 
had arrived at Paris, where her nuptials were confirmed by 
ceremonies still more magnificent. The submissive but sad 
Josephine, had retired to her palace of Malmaison, with the 
title of Empress, and an annual pension of two million 



178 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 

francs from the Senate, and another million from the civil 
list of Napoleon. 

CXLIII. 

On the night of the 20th of March. 1811, the chief sur- 
geon of the Imperial Court entered Napoleon s private 
apartment to tell him that Maria Louisa had been safely 
delivered of a son. The Emperor, who had been many 
hours awaiting the event with more anxiety than he had 
ever been known to display, passed into the ante-chamber 
which was crowded with the members of the court, and all the 
great officers of State, and said — " It is the King of Rome.'' 
The Commandant of Paris heard the announcement, and 
hurried from the excited assembly. Signal-rockets rose 
from the Tuilleries, and a moment after a heavy cannon 
woke the city. The birth of a princess was to be made 
known by a salute of twenty-one guns, and one hundred and 
one were to be fired for a prince. At the first report tens 
of thousands of the inhabitants of Paris rushed into the 
streets and public squares, and waited with anxious suspense 
to learn the result. At length, when the twenty-second gun 
proclaimed the heir to the Empire, a wild and prolonged 
acclamation of gladness rent the sky ; and as peal on peal 
broke from the fortresses, all Paris sent back its deafening 
shout. Never had a child of earth been born to so magni- 
ficent a heritage, or been greeted by a more inspiring hope 
or blood-felt enthusiasm. Nearly all the Powers of Eufope 
sent Embassadors Extraordinary to congratulate the Empe- 
ror ; and Heaven itself seemed to preside over the fortunes 
of this new dynasty. 

CXLIV 

With these new and auspicious signs of lasting prosperity, 
and in the final fruition of his hopes, it is not strange that 



BIRTH OF THE KING OF ROME. 179 

Napoleon went mad with his fortune, and believed himself 
" the favored of the gods." Kings and Emperors, without a 
tithe of his fame, genius or power, have often disgusted 
mankind and offended Heaven by acts of greater presump- 
tion and folly than were ever laid to his charge. 

From the moment of the birth of " the King of Rome" it 
was the dream of his father, to seat his son on the throne 
of the Csesars, and restore that city to its ancient magnifi- 
cence. His veteran grenadiers — the few that still outlived 
his hundred battle-fields^ — who had won the victories of his 
first Italian campaign, often gathered in groups under the 
Imperial Palace, and looked up to its fretted windows, if, 
perchance, they might catch a passing glimpse of that won- 
drous child, whose coronation in the Campidoglio, they 
might yet live to behold. But these brave grenadiers were 
to leave their bones among the snows of Russia, and the 
King of Rome was never to see the city of the Caesars. 

CXLV. 

But the Empire of Napoleon had not yet sustained the 
trying shock. Indications were everywhere visible, that 
neither the sovereigns nor the nations of Europe would 
brook the supremacy of a single master. England had 
nearly succeeded in driving the French troops out of Spain, 
and her agents had either persuaded, intimidated, harrassed 
or bribed every Monarchy of the Continent into the Great 
Coalition. The moment had not yet come when they could 
with impunity reveal their animosity, but probably there 
was not a King in Europe at this time who did not fear and 
hate him — not one who was not watching an opportunity to 
break over the obligations of treaties, and join in a univer- 
sal attempt at his overthrow. Even the kings he had 
created, and the vassals of his Empire, had forgotten their 



180 NAPOLEOX BONAPARTE. 

gratitude and allegiance. His brother Louis had thrown up 
his crown in disgust ; Joseph was flying from his usurped 
palace in Spain ; Murat was already cherishing the idea of 
an independent dynasty for his race in Naples ; the humbled 
Monarch of Prussia was patiently waiting for the hour to 
avenge the rifled tomb of his ancestor ; and although an 
Austrian Arch-Duchess was on the throne of France, her 
father was rgady to lend his hand to the overthrow of her 
husband ; while the Emperor of Russia had already com- 
pleted his preparations for a fresh and .more vigorous war 
against Napoleon — the violation of the treaty of Tilsit 
being the first and smallest obstacle which lay in the path 
of his perfidious ambition. His spy — ^Count Czernicheff — 
who had been lurking for several weeks around Paris, had 
got the information lie wanted, and succeeded in escaping- 
from the city just as the orders had been issued to the 
police to arrest him. 

CXLVI. 

Russia declared war against France in April, 1812. It 
was a shameless infraction of the Treaty of Tilsit — ^but it 
showed Napoleon that Europe was determined to crush him, 
and he rallied the forces of his Empire for a more terrible 
conflict than he had yet been summoned to. 

Again the orders of preparation for battle were seni 
through France, and in a few weeks nearly half a million 
men passed the Rhine, for the invasion of Russia. Such an 
army modern Europe had never seen, nor will such an army 
ever be likely again to gather under the orders of a single 
commander. 

CXLYII. 

When the Emperor left Paris [May 9, 1812,] every augury: 
^hich belongs to power, splendor or loyalty was throwD 



.'INVASIOX OF RUSSIA." * 181 

over his departure. The Empress and all the Court, with 
an endless cortege, followed him, and the road was marked 
as far as Dresden with every sign of a triumphal progress. 
At that city, the Emperor of Austria, and an ante-chamber 
of allied or vassal kings greeted his coming. Hazlitt well 
says — " The adulation was excessive and universal. He 
was the only object of attention ; and every one else gave 
way before him. Seated in the palace of one of the capitals 
of Germany, surrounded by the descendants of her ancient 
kings, showing his imperial spouse, the daughter of the 
Caesars, at his side, he seemed more like a monarch receiving 
his vassals, than a soldier of fortune who had obtruded 
himself into the presence of kings. The population of 
whole cities had deserted their dwellings, and spent days 
and nights in gazing on the gates and windows of his palace, 
or waiting in expectation of seeing him pass. Yet it was 
not his crown, his rank, or the luxury and splendor in which 
he lived that excited this intense curiosity and interest — it 
was the man himself. They wanted to stamp on their minds 
his figure and lineaments : they wanted to have it to say 
that they had seen Napoleon." 

CXLVIII. 

We here enter upon such a tragedy of heroism, suffering 
and ruin as had never been recorded in human annals ; and 
we are enticed to its narration even by the fascination of 
horror. But we have already been betrayed beyond the limits 
we proposed for the life of Napoleon ; and we must dismiss 
this awful and tragic part of his history with a few words. 

Talleyrand used his subtlest and most cogent arguments ; 
Fouche, who although a demoniac villain, was a man of 
great practical judgment and rare common sense, interposed ; 
Cardinal Fesch, who had been deeply affected by the insult- 



182 NAPOLEOX BOXAPAP.TE. 

ing and impious imprisonment of the aged Pontiff, privately 
implored liis nephew to abandon the " Heaven-provoking 
crusade," and statesmen, friends, and even marshals and 
generals endeavored to dissuade Napoleon from the Russian 
Campaign — but they all failed ! He believed he was mount- 
ing the summits of glor}^ — his best friends knew he was 
descending to ruin. But he was dragged on by the destiny 
which presided over his strange life. There was no repose 

for him till he found it in his island-prison. 

I 

CXLIX. 

Napoleon reviewed on the battle-field of Friedland the 
greater part of that vast army which when it had once 
crossed the Niemen, was never to return. As he advanced 
into Russia, he found the entire country laid waste — towns 
were burned, granaries destroyed, and fields made barren 
as he approached. Alexander knew he could not cope with 
Napoleon in pitched battles, and he fell back on his grand 
reserve — a Polar Winter — leaving the destruction of the foe 
to his surest and most merciless ally — the Frost, 

CL. 

The invasion of Russia gave Alexander a million of 
soldiers. Cradled in snow, and inured to the cold, they 
waited for the enemy to march far enough ! — and they knew 
the result. The swarming population of the North arose en 
masse against the invader. A Grand Hutchess of Russia 
[whom Napoleon had desired to marry,] raised a regiment 
on her own estate. Moscow proposed to Alexander to raise 
and equip 80,000 men. The veteran Chief of the Cossacks — 
Platoff^ — offered his only daughter, and a dower of 200,000 
ruldes to the man who should kill Napoleon ! 

Thus the whole country was desolated and depopulated 



FIRST SIGHT OF MOSCOW. 183 

as the invader went on, and the flying peasantry and nobles 
swelled the ranks of the Army of the Czar. The French 
array came in sight of Smolensko, and three times the Com- 
mander charged before he got possession of the town. But 
in the night, the Russian garrison crossed the river, and set 
fire to the city. Dome, turret, palace and hovel, were 
wrapped in a sheet of flame. 

CLI. 

On, on, the irritated legions of France drove the flying 
Russians, who fled from one burning city to another, till at 
last the hostile armies met, [7th September, 1812]. Each 
foe commanded over 100,000 men and 500 cannon. To the 
French, Napoleon said — " Soldiers, here is the battle you 
have longed for ; it is necessary, for it brings us plenty, 
good winter-quarters, and a safe return to our country. Be- 
have yourselves so that posterity may say of each of you. 
He was in that great conflict beneath the walls of Moscow.'" 

This battle was not a bloody struggle and a fierce charge ; 
it was a successioii of chai^ges — and an Iliad of slaughters. 
Each army withdrew at night, and 100,000 dead men were 
left on the field. It was a mutual butchery. Marshal Ney 
was made Prince of Moskwa as a reward for his gallantry — 
but Death was the only Victor. 

CLII. 

Once more this never-resting Captain smelted his meagre 
regiments, and led them on toward Moscow. On the 14th 
of September, they rose over the " Hill of Salvation " — so 
called, because from its summit the pilgrim can see the 
towers of Moscow — which, to the Russian peasant, is as 
sacred as ever was the Holy City to the Christian Crusader. 
When the half-disheartened but still valiant army — few of 



184 NAPOLEON BOXAPARTE. 

whom had ever before witnessed the sight — looked off on 
the domes of the Saracens and the spires of the Goths, rising 
over a metropolis of palaces, and overshadowed by the 
majestic towers of the Kremlin — the whole looming up 
from the plain like a vision of grandeur and beauty — the 
entire army halted, and the solemn, but cheerful exclamation 
broke forth — " Moscow ! — Moscow !" Napoleon's horse, that 
had carried his rider so far, suddenly stopped ! — and the 
rider gazed a few moments in silence. He held his glass 
steadily to his eye, and said — " I see no smoke from a single 
chimney in Moscow." These words would have told a Eus- 
sian the doom of that silent, wondering host I 

CLIII. 

The French divisions moved on — but no sign of life rose 
up from the city. No gates swung open to receive the Con- 
queror — not a battery bristled from the walls. All was 
silent ! 

The army advanced — they entered Moscow ! But it 
was as silent as a city of the dead. The weary divisions 
dispersed through the town — they entered the gorgeous 
churches, and the lamps of worship were still burning be- 
fore the altars, and around them still lingered the odor of 
incense — but no worshipers were there. 

They entered the palaces of nobles— endless suites of 
apartments, adorned with oriental magnificence, galleries 
of art, and cabinets flashing with gems — -t)ut no nobles were 
there I 

They crowded the markets — stalls and alcoves were reek 
ing with luxuries — but no buyers or sellers were there. 

They threaded the streets and went through the houses — 
Du't no dwellers were there. 

The Marshals penetrated the venerable precincts of the 



CONFLAGRATION OF MOSCOW. 185 

Palace of the Czars — the maQ:nificent Kremlin — no Czar 
or Emperor, or even attendant was there ! Moscow — the 
great — the Holy City — was inhabited only by French sol- 
diers ! 

CLIY. 

The Grand Army bivouacked in Moscow — but it seemed 
^to Napoleon's Egyptian veterans like a bivouac in the tomb 
of the Pharaohs ! The mighty host had at last laid them- 
selves to rest for the first night, and silence and gloom had 
spread over Moscow — when from every quarter rose the ter- 
rific cry of Fire ! 

The French Emperor sprang from his couch in the Krem- 
lin, and by the light of the conflagration raging everywhere 
around him, wrote a letter to Alexander proposing a peace. 
A Russian prisoner of high rank was dispatched with the 
note — but no answer was ever returned ! 

CLY. 

For four days the conflagration wasted the city. A 
Russian historian says — " Palaces and temples, monuments 
of art and miracles of luxury, the remains of ages long since 
past, and the creations of yesterday, the tombs of ancestors, 
and the cradles of children, were indiscriminately destroyed. 
Nothing was left of Moscow, save the memory of the peo- 
ple, and their deep resolution to avenge her fall." At last 
the Kremlin took fire [19th Sep.,] in the equinoctial gale, and 
its towers began to tremble. Then only Napoleon left it — 
but the flames were extinguished and he returned to it again. 
A part of the city was still standing ; there was yet an abun- 
dance of provisions ; it could not be believed that some 
response would not come from Napoleon's message of peace ; 
and the French abandoned themselves to the gaycties of 
society. A Theatre Francau was opened among the embers 



186 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 

of Moscow ; and giddy, brave, and brilliant battalions 
crowded to listen to the magic words and stirring scenes 
of the great Talma ! 

CLVI. 

Napoleon could have saved himself by returning at once 
to France, after the burning of Moscow ; but in the vain 
hope of peace he waited, he lingered — and he was lost ! 

No message or messenger returned from Alexander ; and 
at last a snow-storm fell. It was the first blast of a Polar 
Winter, and it sent a chill through the army ! 

" The Man of Destiny" was overmatched. The elements 
had turned against him — he could not master Fire and 
Frost ; and on the 19th October, 1812, he began his retreat 
from Russia ! 

CLYII. 

Slowly, sadly, despairingly, the hitherto invincible legions 
of Napoleon defiled from the smouldering ashes of Moscow, 
and once more turned their faces toward Paris. They now 
numbered upwards of 300,000 — ^how few of them were ever 
to recount their sufferings around their home-firesides ! 

Murat with his cavalry led the march, and this chivalric 
Commander came up to the once magnificent Villa of Ros- 
tophchin ; — it was a heap of ashes ! On one of the columns 
of its massive gate-way he read these words : — "I have 
spent eight years in embellishing this liome of my family; 
and in it I have found a paradise with those I love. The 
people on my estate — 1720 in number — abandon it on your 
approacli. I have set fire to my house, that it may not be 
polluted by your presence !" 



RETREAT OF THE FKEXCH ARMY. 187 

CLVIII. 

The retreat from Russia had begun — but we shall not try 
t( describe it — we have not space, nor could we, if we had. 
It is summed up in a few words. It was a dark and bloody 
chain of corpses for a thousand miles. Thousands laid 
down at night on the snow and never awoke — mounted 
grenadiers in pangs of hunger slew their noble horses, and 
sucking their blood, stripped off their skins, and wrapping 
these reeking mantles around them, laid down to their last 
sleep — those who could bend their stiffened limbs to another 
day's march, had to fight their way through the merciless 
slaughter of the Cossacks — the howl of the polar wolf min- 
gled night by night, with the dreams of the starving and 
freezing soldiers — and as fast as the wounded or the wearied 
fell they were devoured alive ! When the Beresina broke 
up the following spring, 36,000 French corpses were found 
in its bed ! The few who survived all these horrors were 
wasted with famine, and men who had fought in all Napo- 
leon's Campaigns and wore the Cross of the Legion of 
Honor on their breasts, wept when they saw a loaf of 
bread ! 

CLIX. 

At last a few stragglers, emaciated, worn and wounded, 
again stepped upon their native soil. Of the Grand Army, 
which in all the confidence of victory, and all the pride of 
chivalry and power, crossed the Niemen but a few months 
before — 125,000 had been slain — 130,000 had died by famine 
or cold — 200,000 had become the prisoners of unrelenting 
foes — and among this vast multitude there were 50 gene- 
rals and 3,000 regimental of&cers. Seventy-five imperial 
eagles and a thousand cannon had been left behind the 
Niemen. Of the half a million which once composed the 
proud army of Russia, not 20,000 ever again pressed tha 



188 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 

vine-clad hills of beautiful France. We shall have few more 
victories of Napoleon to record — his star was going down 
forever ! 

Its departing light still poured rays of splendor over Eu- 
rope — and even when these rays had ceased to burn, it shot 
with meteor glare once more above the horizon from Elba 
and illuminated the whole heavens. But it sunk at last 
over the field of Waterloo, and rose no more. 

CLX. 

We shall devote but a few paragraphs to the Struggle of 
Napoleon for his Empire, his Fall, Abdication, Life at Elba, 
Return to France, Battle of Waterloo, and Exile at St. 
Helena — although each of these points is worthy of extended 
narration, and will in all time to come invite the investiga- 
tions of the scholar, and captivate the imagination of man- 
kind. 

Late on the night of the 18th December, 1812, Napoleon's 
carriage rolled up to the Tuilleries, bringing the falling but 
not disheartened Emperor. The next morning all Paris 
i*esounded with the news, which flew throughout France 
almost with the rapidity of lightning. The terrible fate of 
the Grand Army had spread a cloud of gloom and disaffec- 
tion over the. French Nation, and the .daring conspiracy 
headed by Mallet to dethrone the Emperor, had nearly suc- 
ceeded. But the announcement of the return of the Hero 
of Austerlitz dispelled gloom and conspiracy, and agai^i 
diffused joy and exultation through t]iat gayest and braves 
of nations. 

CLXI. 

The reverses of the French arms, and the annihilation ol 
the grandest and most powerful host the earth had ever 
Been, were at once forgotten. The footsteps of the throne 



PRUSSIA DECLARES WAR. 189 

wett crowded by kneeling senates, magistrates and cour- 
tiers, and addresses and congratulations poured in from 
every side. Lockhart says — " The voice of applause, con- 
gratulation and confidence re-echoed from every quarter, 
drowned the whispers of suspicion, resentment and natural 
sorrow. Every department of the public service appeared 
to be animated with a spirit of ten-fold activity. New con- 
scriptions were called for and yielded. Regiments arrived 
from Spain and Italy. Every arsenal resounded with the 
preparation of new artillery — thousands of horses were 
impressed in every province. Ere many weeks had elapsed 
Napoleon found himself once more in condition to take the 
field with not less than 350,000 soldiers. Such was the 
effect of this new appeal to the national feelings of this 
great and gallant people." 

CLXII. 

Six years had passed av/ ay since the terrible day of Jena, 
and Prussia having recoA^ered from- its disasters and em- 
boldened by Napoleon's recent losses, again prepared for 
battle. The 31st of January, Frederick William declared 
war against France, took the field, and appealed to the 
whole nation to gather around his standard. The call was 
responded to by a universal shout, and all ages and classes 
devoted their fortunes and lives to the sacred cause of Na- 
tional Independence. The Emperor of Russia set his vast 
army in motion, and his Cossack hordes descended exult- 
ingly from the North in the dead of winter, gayly buffeting 
the same snows where Napoleon's army lay, buried. Wlien 
Alexander embraced the King of Prussia at Breslau, [loth 
March, 1813], Frederick William burst into tears — ■' Wipe 
them," said the Czar cheerfully — " they are the last Napoleon 
will ever cause you to shed." The two armies — the Rus- 



190 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 

sians headed by Witgenstein, tlie Prussians by tlie veteran 
Blucher — and each fighting under the eyes of their Sove- 
reigns, were waiting impatiently for a sight of the French 
Eagles. 

CLXIII. 

Napoleon, who had already concentrated nearly 200,000 
men on the banks of the Saal, set out from Paris, and on the 
18th of April was at the head of his army. He met the 
Allies at Lutzen, and after a day of carnage they fell back on 
Leipsic, then on Dresden, and at last crossed the Elbe. In 
the meantime, the Austrian Emperor — who had stood neutral, 
but could not long remain so, with a powerful army — urged 
his son-in-law to accept his mediation for a general Peace, 
offering his friendship and alliance, if Napoleon would con- 
sent to limit his Empire to the Rhine, and restore their in- 
dependence to the German nations. The historian and the 
statesman will always wonder what infatuation could have 
driven Napoleon to reject the mediation of a power which 
could turn the scales so infallibly against him in the final 
struggle then approaching. He, doubtless, looked forward 
to another day of Austerlitz or Jena, and could not yet be- 
lieve that he was not invincible. He pressed hard on the 
rear of the retreating Allies, crossed the Elbe at Dresden, 
and came in sight of the enemy at Bautzen, on the morning of 
the 21st of May. At the end of a long and bloody day, tlie 
Allied Armies abandoned the field, and began their retrjeat ; 
and couriers were dispatched to Paris, from Napoleon's 
camp, with the news of the great Yictory of Bautzen. 

.J CLXIV. 

That night Napoleon, after dictating the bulletin of the 
battle, wrote the following decree, "which," says Alison, 
" all lovers of the arts, as well as admirers of patriotic vir- 



DEATH OF DUROC. 191 

tuo, must regret, was prevented by his fall from being car- 
ried into execution'' : — " A monument shall be erected on 
Mount Cenis ; on the most conspicuous face the following 
inscription shall be written : — ' The Emperor Napoleon, froln 
the field of Wurschen, has ordered the erection of this monu- 
ment, in testimony of his gratitude to the people of France 
and of Italy. This monument will transmit from age to age 
the remembrance of that great epoch, when, in the space of 
three months twelve hundred thousand men flew to arms, to 
protect the integrity of the French Empire.' " The follow- 
ing day the French army came up with the retiring Allies, 
and another combat followed, in which Duroc fell. The 
dying man was carried into a cottage, and Napoleon dis- 
mounted and slowly passed the door. He saw there was no 
hope, and pressing the hand of the expiring hero, he said, 
" There is another world, Duroc, where we shall meet again." 
He bowed over the body, and wet it with his tears. It was 
the anniversary of the death of Lannes. On the spot where 
Duroc fell, his Sovereign wrote thes-e words, for his monu- 
ment : — " Here the General Duroc, Duke of Friuli, Grand- 
Marshal of the Palace of the Emperor Napoleon, gloriously 
fell, struck by a cannon-ball, and died in the arms of the 
Emperor, his friend." He handed the paper to Berthier in 
silence, and sat in his tent alone, for several hours, wrapped 
in his gray great-coat, with his head resting on his hands, and 
his elbows on his knees, a prey to the most agonizing reflec- 
tions. " The Squares of the Old Guard," says Alison, " re- 
ppecting his feelings, arranged themselves at a distance. A 
mournful silence reigned around ; the groups of officers, at a 
little distance, hardly articulated above their breatk. Slowly 
the moon rose over this melancholy scene ; the heavens be- 
came illuminated by the flames of the adjoining villages, 
which had fallen a prey to the licence of the soldiers ; while 



192 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 

the noble bands of the Imperial Guard played alternately 
triumphal and elegiac strains, in the vain hope of distracting 
the grief of their Chief. '^ 

CLXV. 

Again Austria proffered her mediation, which was readilj 
accepted by Alexander and Frederick William, and Napo- 
leon agreed to an armistice, which was signed June 1st, 
when he returned to Dresden, to await a General Congress 
of Diplomatists, about to assemble at Prague. England 
alone refused to join in this universal attempt for Peace ; 
nor was there a Sovereign in Europe who sincerely desired 
it, except Napoleon. But without waiting for the slow move- 
ments of the General Congress, the Austrian Emperor sent 
Metternich to confer with Napoleon in person at Dresden. 
Their interview was to decide the part Austria was to take 
in the final contest. These two extraordinary men— the 
Warrior and the diplomatist — met and conversed for 
several hours. But Napoleon only made Metternich angry 
by saying, " Come, Metternich, tell me honestly, how much 
the English have given you to make war upon me ?" 

They parted, and the formal ultimatum of the Austrian 
Court was sent to the French Emperor. It demanded the 
surrender of his conquests. But Talleyrand and Fouche, 
who had just arrived from Paris, pres-sed him to accede to 
the demands of Austria. Their arguments were enforced by 
fresh news from Spain, indicating the speedy fall of, his 
power in the Peninsula. " Ten lost battles," said Napoleon, 
" would not sink me lower than you would have me sink my 
Belf, by a single stroke of the pen. I will first overwhelm 
my enemies, and then ratify an honorable Peace." Austria, 
however, still pretended to be anxious for peace, and Met- 
ternich succeeded in convincing Napoleon of her sincerity, 
thereby gaining time to strike a decisive blow. 



THE GREAT COALITION. 193 

CLXVI. 

Finally, Metternicli suddenly broke off all negotiations, 
and on the 12th August, Austria declared war against 
France. It was an act of bold and shameless perfidy ; but^ 
Metternich was richly rewarded for his treachery by the 
crowned heads of Europe. Alison has in graphic language 
depicted the scenes which followed. " Unbounded was the 
joy diffused through the Russian and Prussian troops by 
the accession of Austria to the alliance. To outstrip the 
slow arrival by couriers of the long-wished-for intelligence, 
bonfires were prepared on the summits of the Bohemian 
mountains ; and at midnight on the 10th [August,] their 
resplendent light told the breathless host in Silesia that two 
hundred thousand gallant allies were about to join their 
standard. The Emperor of Russia, and King of Prussia, 
with their respective troops, were assembled in anxious 
expectation at Trachenberg, in a large barn, awaiting the 
agreed-on signal, when a little after midnight on the 10th, 
loud shouts on the outside announced that the flames were 
seen ; and soon the Sovereigns themselves, hastening to the 
door, beheld the blazing lights, prophetic of the Fall of 
Napoleon, on the summits of the mountains. Such was the 
joy which pervaded the deeply-agitated assembly, that they 
all embraced, many with tears of rapture.'^ 

CLXVII. 

Thus was consolidated at last the Great Coalition. The 
Sovereigns of the Nations of Europe had leagued together 
and sworn to crush the Emperor of France. All the influ- 
ence and genius of his Empire had been exhausted in the 
futile attempt to dissuade Napoleon from battling against 
combined Europe — his ministers, marshals, generals, friends 
and allies, tried in vain. Everybody foresaw his inevitable 



194 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 

doom, except himself — everybody else trembled — but he 
strode as confidently along his path of glory in the last 
hour as in the hour of his brightest victories — although 
every step was upon a sinking Empire. 

Napoleon had now been several weeks with his army at 
Dresden, and that opulent and populous city had fondly 
hoped that on the birth-day of the French Emperor, a Peace 
with Europe would be signed. They had prepared a mag. 
nificent festival in his honor, and to celebrate the restoration 
of peace. But these hopes were suddenly chilled by an 
order for the fete to take place on the lOth, in conjunction 
with a grand review of the army. On the great plain of 
Ostra-Gehege, near Dresden, the imperial troops were drawn 
■jp, and in the presence of the King of Saxony, the Em- 
peror's brothers. Marshals, and the chief dignitaries of the 
Empire, Napoleon held his Last KeVtew. Twenty thousand 
of the Old Guard, five thousand of whom were mounted on 
fine horses richly caparisoned, with the whole of that vast 
army, defiled before their Imperial Commander. A banquet 
fit for a Congress of Kings was spread for his gallant vete- 
rans, and at night the City was gay with festivities, fire- 
works and illuminations. It was the last time that superb 
host would ever be reviewed by their Chief — it was the last 
banquet where they were ever to assemble — it was the last 
Foreign Capital of his Empire ever to be illuminated in his 
honor. _. 

CLXVIII. ^ 

The Allied Army had already been strengthened by the 
accessio-n of Bernadotte with the Army of Sweden, and the 
presence of Moreau — the hero of Hohenlinden — who had 
returned from his long exile in America, and at the invi- 
tation of Alexander joined his army to fight against Napo 



napoleon's last victory. 195 

leon. It is supposed that these two great French Generals 
— who had turned their arms ae'ainst their native country, 
had tlie entire disposition of the allied armies at the battle 
of Dresden, now approaching. 

On the evening of the 26th August, the armies met in a 
hort but fierce engagement, and separated for a final con- 
flict on the coming day. 

The following morning in the midst of a tempest of wind 
and rain, Napoleon renewed the battle, with 200,000 men 
under his standard. It was a sanguinary and hard-fought 
field, but when night came it left the French masters, with 
20,000 prisoners, twenty-six cannon, eighteen standards, and 
one hundred and thirty caissons. Another circumstance 
redoubled the effect of the victory. In the early part of 
the engagement, Nappleon, who had been intently eyeing a 
group of officers on an elevation, beyond the reach of com- 
mon cannon-shot, recognized " the traitor Moreau." He at 
once ordered a battery of heavy guns — charged with all 
their power — pointed in that direction. He superintended 
the operation, and decided himself the angle of elevation, 
the aim, and the moment of fire. Ten pieces went off at 
once, carrying a storm of cannon-shot over the heads of the 
contending armies. That evening a peasant entered Napo- 
leon's camp, with a bloody boot and a greyhound wiiose 
collar wore the words — " I belong to General Moreau.^^ Napo- 
eon had accomplished his object — Moreau was dead. Both 
nis legs had been taken off by that discharge of grape-shot. 
He died soon after in the presence of Alexander. Thus 
ended the battle of Dresden — the last pitched-battle Napo- 
leon ever gained. For a moment it shot a gleam of splendor 
arour d his dissolving Empire. 



196 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 

CLXIX. 

But the victory had not been decisive enougl to humble 
Ms enemies, nor was he confident enough to pursue his foe. 
He fell back on Dresden — prostrated with fatigue and iK- 
ness, and from this hour every messenger who came into his 
presence brought only disheartening news. When he heard 
of the disastrous defeat of Vandamme at Culm, he said to 
Murat, from the sick bed where he lay— ^'' Such is the for- 
tune of war — high in the morning — low ere night. Between 
tiiumph and ruin there intervenes but a step." Other 
reverses soon followed. Macdonald was utterly routed by 
Blucher at Wahlstadt, [26th August], with the loss of 
15,000 men and 100 cannon. Oudinot was defeated by 
Bernadotte at Grossbeeren, [23rd August], and Luckau fell 
into his hands with the garrison fivef days after. Marshal 
Ney who met Bernadotte the Tth September at Dennewitz, 
lost 10,000 prisoners and forty-six guns — these were some 
of Napoleon's reverses. 

CLXX. 

But Napoleon at last rose from his bed, refreshed by 
repose, and struggled like Laoccoon in the folds of the 
serpent. He felt the reins of power slipping from his 
hands ; but by almost superhuman efforts he held them for 
a-while longer. At last, however, he was forced to give up 
the line of the Elbe, to whicli, one ofiiis historians well 
says, he still clung as he had done to the Kremlin — and 
began his retreat towards Leipsic where he made a stand 
with all his forces. 

He had, however, hardly gathered his divisions in that 
ancient city, before Schwartzenberg's columns appeared on 
the south. Alexander and Frederick William were in his 
camp, and they had just been joined by the Emperor of 



LOSS OF THE BATTLE OF LEIPSIC. 19T 

Austria, who had come to witness the overthrow of the 
Empire, in whose honors his own daughter participated. At 
twelve o'clock that same night, three rockets — of pure white 
light — sprang up from the camp of the Emperors, and the 
signal was at once answered by four rockets that went 
olazing red and far into the heavens on the north ; which 
told Napoleon that he would have to contend the next day 
with a quarter of a million men. His own army had dwin- 
dled to 130,000. 

CLXXI. 

Neither party seemed averse to battle, and the engage- 
ment began at day-break on the 16th, and ended only with 
nightfall, when three cannon-shots, fired from each wing, 
marked the suspension of the slaughter, each army sleeping 
on the ground that had been their bivouac the previous 
night. Such was the state of the contest on the south of 
the city, where Napoleon commanded in person. But on 
the north side Blucher had repulsed the column of Mar 
mont, and driven them under the walls of the town. 

Illusions were now vanishing from the eye of Napoleon, 
and with the first unimpassioned glance at his situation, he 
sent to the Allied Sovereigns a prisoner of rank [who had 
come to him after the victory of Austerlitz from the Emperor 
Francis,] to obtain conditions of peace. But the hour for 
negotiation was past — the Allied Kings could redeem tlieir 
oath, only by driving their foe beyond the Rhine. The 
messenger did not return. 

CLXXII. 

The French Emperor now prepared for his retreat to 
wards France, with foes almost as merciless as those he haa 
tc contend with when he turned his back on Moscow. 

But the Allies were determined to contest every league 



198 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 

of the flight. They waited the 17th for the arrival of Ber- 
nadotte, and on the morning of the 18th renewed the con- 
flict. It lasted on the south under Napoleon, and at the 
north under Ney, another long day ; in which the inferiority 
of the French was atoned for by amazing heroism, and such 
a display of generalship as had probably never been wit- 
nessed in all the campaigns of Napoleon. Once more night 
separated the contending hosts, and again the armies at the 
signal of three guns laid down to sleep. Not even the 
shameful defection of a corps of 10,000 Saxons, who went 
over to the Allies during the heat of battle, could give 
victory to the enemy. 

Just after midnight Napoleon roused his bleeding army 
and began his retreat — leaving in killed, wounded, or pri- 
soners 50,000 men around, or within the walls of Leipsic. 

CLXXIII. 

The retreat of this shattered host almost equaled in sad- 
ness and gloom, the retreat from Russia. But Napoleon 
showed himself still greater than ever in the midst of such 
overwhelming misfortunes. Not a day now, but he heard 
evil tidings — but his calmness, equanimity, firmness, and even 
cheerfulness, nothing could disturb — his spirit nothing could 
break. At last, the remains of his great and gallant host 
once more crossed the Rhine, and Napoleon traveled on by 
post-horses to Paris, where he arrived on the 9th of Novem 
ber — an Emperor without kingdoms — a tJhieftain without 
an army. 

CLXXIT. 

But there still lingered around Napoleon's name a charm 
which conjured up one more army from the soil of France ; 
and as the news spread that the Allies had crossed the 
French frontier, and were marching on Paris, men of al] 



PARTING WITH NATIONAL GUARD. 199 

class 3S armed, and flocked around the falling Emperor. 
The tide of invasion was rolling in from all sides ; and al- 
ready two hundred thousand foreign troops — embracing men 
from fifty nations — were on French ground, for the purpose 
of compelling the French Nation to receive back once more 
the hated Bourbon race, for whose restoration the despots 
of Europe had so long contended. On the morning of the 
23d of January, an order of Napoleon had assembled the 
officers of the National Guard in the Salon of the Marshals in 
the palace of the Tuilleries. They numbered 900, and they 
were ignorant of the reason why they had been summoned. 
At length the Emperor, followed by Maria Louisa and the 
Countess Montesquieu, carrying in her arms the King 
of Rome, entered the wondering and excited assembly. 

"Messieurs," said Napoleon, "France is invaded. I go 
to put myself at the head of the army, and with God's help 
and their valor, I hope soon to drive the enemy beyond the 
frontier": And taking the Empress by one hand, and his son 
in the other, he continued, with visible emotion, " But if the 
foe should approach the Capital, I confide to the National 
Guard, the Empress, and the King of Rome— Jkfi/ wife and 
childJ^ There were few among that army of brave and 
resolute men who could restrain their tears. 

CLXXV. 

The following day. Napoleon reviewed his troops in the 
Court-yard of his Palace, while the snow was falling, and 
the following morning left Paris, having appointed Maria 
Louisa regent of the Empire, and his brother Joseph, chief 
of the Council of State. 

We need not trace the course of events any further. For 
two months the hunted hero of a hundred battles fought 
inch by inch the irresistible onset of the Allied Invaders. 



200 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 

Wherever lie met the enemy he encountered them with the 
heroism of better days, and his troops fought with the 
energy of despair. 

Napoleon never displayed so much true greatness as during 
this last campaign. His transitions from point to point, the 
rapidity of his evolutions and marches, his unflagging reso- 
lation, his matchless skill, unwasting energy, and, above all, 
the invincibleness of his unbroken and unbending will — ^made 
him greater and more terrible than ever. Like a solitary 
column of an ancient temple, that only rears itself with 
sublimer grandeur when all its props and accompaniments 
have fallen — so stood Napoleon when his Empire had fallen 
to ruins around him — so unrelentingly had the Hero kept 
his ground. French writers tell us that the vineyards and 
gardens of Champaigne had become so complete a desola- 
tion, wolves roamed over the country and howled around 
the camp. 

A huge volume only could embrace the achievements and 
sufferings of Napoleon and his comrades during these last 
scenes of the dissolving Empire. 

CLXXVI. 

Finally, after the Empress and her son had fled from 
Paris, and the Allied Armies had taken possession of the 
city, restoring by the force of armed intervention a race 
which could never again rule in tranquillity over France. 
Napoleon with a few of his worn and faithful followers 
entered the Court-yard of his Country Palace — Fontain- 
bleau. On the 11th of April, when he was entirely in the 
power of his old enemies, and most of his ministers, mar- 
shals and favorites had abandoned him, he signed at their 
dictation an abdication of the thrones of France and of 
Ita'y for himself and his heirs. He, and the worM of honest 



DEPARTURE FOR ELBA. 201 

men, regarded tlie instrument just as sacred as a testament 
extorted by force from a dying man. 

CLXXVII. 

One more scene was to be passed through before he left 
the halls of that superb Chateau, where he had for so many 
years forgotten the burden of his Empire in the blandish- 
ments of home. The relics of his Old Guard — the stranded 
masts and spars of that imperial vessel which had outrode 
so many tempests — were drawn up in the Court-yard of the 
Chateau. Napoleon rode up to them on horseback, and, dis- 
mounting., said — " Comrades ! all Europe has armed against 
me. France herself has deserted me and chosen another 
Dynasty. I might with you have maintained a civil war 
for years — but it would have rendered France unhappy. 
Be faithful to the new Sovereign your country has chosen. 
Do not lament my fate ; I shall always be happy while I 
know that you are so,. I could have died — nothing was 
easier — but I will always follow the path of honor. I will 
record with my pen the deeds we have done together. I 
cannot embrace you all [as he took their Commander in his 
arms,] but I embrace your General. Bring me the Eagle ! — 
May the kisses I bestow on thee, long resound in the hearts 
of the brave ! Farewell, my children — farewell, my brave 
companions — surround me once more !" — And they clustered 
around their throneless Emperor, and they all wept to- 
gether. " Farewell — Farewell," — he again and again ut- 
tered ; and, turning from the weeping group, entered his 
carriage, and started for Elba. 

CLXXVIII. 

Fallen as he was, his Cortege was worthy of an Emperor. 
Fouj Envoys, one from each of the Great Powers — Russia, 



202 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 

England, Austria and Prussia — with Marshal JBertrand, 
Grand Master of the Palace, friends and servants, attended 
Napoleon on his journey. Seven hundred of his best soldiers, 
and one hundred and fifty of his Old Guard chosen by him- 
self, and all volunteers for the new service, accompanied 
their Emperor. 

English historians have seemed to delight in recording 
every display of disrespect, and if we may believe them, of 
indignity shown to the dethroned Emperor as he was passing 
through the Southern Provinces. They have even said that 
his life was not safe in certain districts. If this be false, it 
is a shame to proclaim it ; if it be true, it only proves the 
fickleness of a French mob, and demonstrates that the only 
government which can secure tranquillity to France is a 
despotism. In any event it derogates nothing from Napo- 
leon. 

CLXXIX. 

The Cortege reached Cannes, where a French Man-of- 
war was waiting to convey him to Elba. But the Bo-urbon 
flag was flying at her peak, and as there was an English 
frigate in the port, he said he would sail in her. 

When his foot struck the deck of the Undaunted, every 
cloud moved off from his brow, and with courtesy and 
familiarity he mingled with officers and men, and conversed 
cheerfully and respectfully with all. This excited universal 
surprise among the English — for it had-^never occurred'to 
them that a monarch could be a man. He distributed two 
hundred napoleons [$800] among the crew, when he left the 
ship, like honest-hearted sailors they " wished his honor 
better luck next time." 



NAPOLEON AT ELBA. 203 

CLXXX. 

Napoleon was received with joy by tlie Elbans. He at 
once explored his mimic Empire — a rocky and mountainous 
island near the Italian coast, some sixty miles in circuit — 
nd in a few days had perfectly ascertained its history and 
esources, and the character of its people. He brought 
those unresting energies which had hardly found a Conti- 
nent too large for their scope, to bear with intensity on the 
microscopic field to which they were now limited. He pro- 
jected and began several public works ; he dispatched a 
corps of men to take possession of a small neighboring 
island, whose population had been driven away by the 
Corsairs ; trade and commerce revived and flourished ; 
Napoleon's flag was everywhere respected ; his subjects 
loved him and were proud of his government ; Letitia, his 
mother, and Pauline, his beautiful and accomplished sister, 
and others of his friends, visited him and adorned his little 
Court by their presence ; he reviewed his few hundred 
veteran soldiers as formally and with as much pride as he 
had the innumerable hosts he led to the battles of Echmuhl 
or Austerlitz. Napoleon himself seemed to be contented 
with his situation — he had fallen from the loftiest Empire 
to the position of a Baron of the middle ages, without regret, 
and he seemed to have abandoned forever the dreams of 
ambition. 

CLXXXI. 

But as might have been supposed beforehand, the Allied 
Powers violated the last Treaty they had made with him, as 
they had every other — they neglected to pay him the pen- 
sion they had solemnly pledged should be done at every 
quarter — and the Exiled Monarch was obliged to sell every 
luxury and comfort around him to raise the means of paying 
bis current expenses. Thus reduced to a position which 



204 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 

would have enraged the spirit of any honest man, he began 
to forecast the future, and contemplated a bold stroke. 
Everything invited his return to France. Louis XYIII. 
had ascended the throne. This aged, obese and infirm 
Monarch was the worst man in Europe to govern France. 
Stultified by his gourmand and beastly indulgences, his first 
royal act was dated in the 20th year of his reign, and 
asserted in the most pompous manner the now exploded doc- 
trine of the divine right of kings. He neither extended 
his confidence to the Napoleonists, or rewarded his own 
friends who had participated in the reverses of his long 
exile. France, besides, when she had time to reflect, contem- 
plated with shame her own humiliation. Foreign tyrants 
backed by armed men, had dictated what kind of a govern- 
ment she was to have, and forced on her a despot without 
consulting the will of Frenchmen. A spirit of sullen gloom 
spread over the nation, and even had not Napoleon returned 
from Elba, Louis XYIII. could not long have ruled tran 
quilly in France. The Allies had been working twenty 
years to restore the Bourbons who had forever become 
impossible in France. 

CLXXXII. 

Napoleon saw that the moment had again come to tempt 
the favors of fortune ; and just after midnight on the 27th 
February, 1815, when Pauline had given a sumptuous enter 
tainment to the officers of the little Elban army, the Em- 
peror, his suite and eight hundred soldiers embarked for 
the coast of France, to recover the throne of the Napoleon 
Dynasty. He landed [March 1st,] at the very spot he had 
touched when he arrived from Egypt, and from which he 
had only ten months before embarked for his exile. He 
reviewed liis troops, and began his march on Paris. 



RETURN FROM ELBA. 20t5 

CLXXXIII. 

Wherever lie passed he was greeted with acclamations. 
He went on triumphantly from point to point — his army 
augmenting at every step till he reached Grenoble, which 
threw open its gates ; and reviewing 7,000 men, he pressed 
on towards Lyons, which held at that moment a powerful 
force under Marshal Macdonald, and Monsieur, the heir of 
the Empire. 

Meantime, the Congress of Vienna that had been so 
long in session they had began to fight over the division of 
the spoils of conquered nations, were astounded by the news 
that Napoleon had landed in France and was marching on 
Paris ! 

CLXXXIY. 

The Emperor, resumed at Lyons the administration of his 
Empire, having already by his eloquent proclamations elec- 
trified France. To the soldiers he said — " Take again the 
Eagles you followed at Ulm, Austerlitz, Jena and Mont- 
mirail. Come, range yourselves under the banners of your 
old Chief. Victory shall march at every charging step. 
The Eagle, with the National Colors, shall fly from steeple to 
steeple — on to the towers of Notre Dame ! In your old age, 
surrounded and honored by your fellow-citizens, you shall 
be heard with respect, when you recount your noble deeds. 
You shall then say with pride — ' I also was oue of that great 
army which twice entered the walls of Vienna, took Rome, 
Berlin, Madrid a ad Moscow — and which delivered Paris 
from the stain of domestic treason and the occupation of 
strangers.' " 

CLXXXV. 

And thus from village to village and city to city, the 
swelling tide rolled on towards Paris. On the night of the 
19th the Emperor once more slept at his Palace of Fontain- 



206 NAPOLEOX BOXAPARTE. 

bleau. The next eyening he made his public entry into his 
Capital, and amidst the shouts of hundreds of thousands 
the Conqueror of Kingdoms entered the Tuilleries, and was 
borne in triumph on the shoulders of the Parisians to the 
magnificent salon, now crowded by the beauty and the 
chivalry of Paris, and from which Louis XYIIL had but a 
few hours before fled. Acclamations wilder than had ever 
proclaimed his greatest victories, rang through Paris, and 
all night the cannon of Austerlitz and Marengo sent their 
reverberations over the illuminated city. 

CLXXXYI. 

Europe — astounded by the intelligence wherever it 
spread — was now martialled for the last struggle against 
Napoleon. The Great Powers signed a final Treaty, in 
which they proclaimed Bonaparte an outlaw , and pledged 
their faith to exterminate him from the face of the earth. 
Once more every nation on the Continent rang with the 
clangor of war -like preparation, and before sixty days had 
passed, a million of armed men were marching to the scene 
of the final struggle. 

CLXXXYII. 

Before the close of May, Napoleon had upwards of 
800,000 soldiers ready for battle, besides an Imperial Guard 
of nearly 40,000 chosen veterans : while the last scion of 
the Bourbon race had been driven from the soil, and the tri- 
color which had waved in triumph over so many subject 
nations, was now unfurled again from the Ehine to the 
Pyrenees — and from the British Channel to the shores of 
the- Mediterranean. 



PREPAllATIOXS FOR WATERLOO. 207 

CXXXVIII. 

The Napoleon Empire was now restored, and to all ap- 
pearances, with its ancient vigor. But events were thick- 
ening around Napoleon, and failing in every attempt to 
negotiate with the Allied Powers, he left Paris on the 
evening of the 11th of June, and three days after reviewed 
nis army at Beaumont. It was the anniversary of the victo- 
rious days of Friedland and Marengo. He never seemed 
more confident on the eve of a great engagement, nor ad- 
dressed more stirring words to his soldiers. Every man 
under his standards was fired with the thirst for battle. 



CXXXTX. 

Hostile divisions had met and fought on the 16th at 
Quatre Bras, and Ligny, with almost unparalleled losses 
on either side. Napoleon's bulletins announced two bril- 
liant victories. Blucher, with 80,000 men, had been com- 
pelled to yield to one of the most terrible assaults he ever 
had to encounter, led on by Napoleon himself. It cost the 
Prussian Army 20,000 men — inflamed the enthusiasm of the 
French, and again spread the ancient terror of Napoleon's 
name through the ranks of his enemies. But these were 
only transient flashes from Napoleon's sinking star. 

cxc. 

Finally, the day of Napoleon's last battle broke in clouds 
nd wind, after a night of tempest. It was Sunday ! — a day, 
which since the time of the Saviour, Christian nations have 
devoted to mercy, adoration and repose. But the Sabbath 
of the 18th of June, 1815, witnessed the struggle of one 
hundred and fifty thousand men grappling with each other 
in the terrible work of destruction, and whoever may have 



1208 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 

rejoiced in the result, the carnage of that day filled Euii^pe 
with mourning. 

One word of this battle, and we end the military history 
of Napoleon. The two armies were drawn up on opposite 
ranges of irregular but gentle elevations, and the preceding 
night had drenched the intervening plain — of waving grain 
— like a flood. 

CXCI. 

At eleven o'clock Napoleon^s biigles- gave the signal ; 
Jerome advanced with a column of 6,000 men, and the 
Battle of Waterloo began. Under the cover of heavy batte- 
ries, whose balls flew on their errand of death over the heads 
of his troops, the King of Westphalia charged the right 
wing of Wellington, which rested on the Chateau Haugo- 
mont. Slowly the engagement extended, from point to 
point, and division closed with division till the tide of battle 
had swept over the plain — two miles from wing to wing — and 
150,000 men had closed in the terrific struggle. The battle 
had now lasted from eleven till four, and ten thousand men 
had fallen every hour. Broken, bleeding and exhausted 
battalions had charged and closed and recoiled, and so 
equal had been the conflict that victory seemed about to 
fold its wings over a mutual slaughter. 

But an incident now occurred which promised soon to 
decide the day. Blucher, the veteran Marshal, with , his 
veteran Prussians, thirsting for vengeance for the long and 
deep humiliation of the Crown of Frederick the Great, 
came in sight to restore the half-discomfited Wellington 
but Marshal Grouchey who had been left to hold him in 
check, did not appear. In a moment Napoleon saw that if 
these new and vast reinforcements were allowed to join 
Wellington's army, the day was lost. 



BATTLE OF WATERLOO. 209 

CXCII. 

The Frencli Emperor held his glass steadily to his eye 
for a few moments, and then dispatched his aids to Reille 
and Ney, with orders for the Old Guard of the Empire to 
advance. This most superb body of soldiers, probably, 
that ever marched under the banners of any conqueror, 
descended to the plain. For five long hours they had 
watched the ebb and flow of the hardest contested of all 
their battle-fields. 

With a shout — Vive V Empereur — which drowned the now 
subsiding roar of artillery, these two mighty columns of 
hei'oes launched themselves on the centre of the Allied lines. 
Riding on full gallop along their lines just as they were 
starting, Napoleon had time only to say, " Heroes of all my 
Victories, I confide to you my Empire." 

CXCIII. 

The fate of the most glorious Empire the sun ever set on, 
now hung on a single charge. Ney had gained many a 
victory, and never lost a battle ; the men he led, had fought 
in Africa, Asia and Europe, and never known defeat ; and 
each one felt himself confided with as sacred a trust at that 
moment, as though he had carried in his hand the Crown of 
his Emperor. 

On an elevation Napoleon stood and watched the last 
charge of his Imperial Guard, till they were wrapped in the 
smoke of battle. Where they were he did not know — they 
could not tell themselves. But their enemies knew that 
they had trod them in the plain. This charge had fallen on 
Wellington's army like a bolt from Heaven — they were 
paralyzed for a moment — the cloud of smoke rose from the 
plain — Napoleon saw his Guard struggling at the very 
mouth of the cannon. The first charge had launched them 



210 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 

into the heart of the enemy's lines. Each army was now in 
full view. Wellington trained his batteries on this last 
column of his antagonist, and Napoleon saw his Old 
GrUARD sink into the earth, where they closed with the foe. 

cxciv. 

One hundred of Wellington's of&cers had died ; five hun 
dred were wounded — many mortally — and 15,000 of his 
soldiers had fallen, wounded or dead. 

Napoleon remained on the field till his army was no more, 
and taking post-horses, he pressed on to Paris. Twenty-four 
hours after the Battle of Waterloo had been fought, he was 
again in his Capital. As soon as the disastrous news was 
known, Paris was filled with murmurs, gloom and treachery. 
Talleyrand and Fouche had betrayed him to Wellington 
beforehand. He saw, that to recover himself was impossi- 
ble ; and he ended his political history by the following 
proclamation to the French People : — 

cxcv. 

" Frenchmen ! In commencing war for the maintenance 
of the national independence, I relied on the union of all 
efforts, all wills, and all authorities. I had reason to hope 
for success, and I braved all the declarations of the powers 
against me. Circumstances appear to be changed. I offer 
myself as a sacrifice to the hatred of the enemies of France. 
May they prove sincere in their declarations, and to h^ve 
aimed only at me ! My political life is ended ; and I pro- 
claim my son. Napoleon II., Emperor of the French. Unite 
for the public safety, if you would remain an independent 
nation. — Done at the Palace Elysee, June the 22d, 1815. 

" Napoleon." 

Thus ended the reign of the Hundred Days, 



THE FLIGHT FKOM PARIS. 211 

CXCVI. 

Napoleon liad resolved to retire to America, and fix his 
home in the United States — and he should at once have car- 
ried out his purpose. Our vessels were in every French 
port, and he could have crossed the Atlantic in safet3^ But 
he wasted the precious days of his freedom. He retired to 
Malmaison, but he was no longer greeted by the warm em- 
orace of Josephine — the divorced wife had forgotten all her 
wrongs and her sorrows, in the hallowed precincts of the 
village church of Ruel. What may have been the feelings 
of the fallen Emperor, as he walked through the deserted 
halls of Malmaison at midnight — in the midst of the ruins of 
his Empire, and so near the ashes of his divorced Josephine 
— we do not wish to know ! 

CXCVII. 

As he had lingered at the Kremlin, Dresden, and Fontain- 
bleau — the three stages of his ruin — so did he linger at Mal- 
maison. The spell was still over him — fate had decreed 
that, when the sapped castle at last fell, the ruin should be 
complete. 

At last, on the 29th of June — eleven days after the battle of 
Waterloo — with Marshal Bertram, a few other friends, and a 
guard of mounted men, he set out for Rochefort, where ho 
arrived the 3d of July. But the dark hull of an English 
line-of-battle-ship was visible out at sea, and after some 
hesitation. Napoleon said — " Wherever wood can float there 
is the flag of England — I will throw myself into her hands— 
a helpless foe." 

CXCVIII. 

Napoleon wrote the following letter to the Prince Regent 
and then voluntarily went on board the Bellcrophon — 



212 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 

" RocHEFORT, July 13, 1815. 
" EoYAL Highness, — Exposed to the factions whicli div^'de 
my coimtr-y, and the hostility of the greatest powers of 
Europe, I have closed my political career. I come, like 
Themistocles, to seek the hospitality of the English nation 
I place myself under the protection of their laws, which I 
claim from your Royal Highness, as the most powerful, th 
most constant, and the most generous of my enemies. 

"Napoleon." 

cxcix. 

This letter was received by the English Commander, and 
sent to England — but Napoleon should have long before 
learned that to his letters to British Princes, no answers 
would be returned. 

The following day the Emperor went on board the 
Bellerophon, and as he took the hand of Captain Maitland, 
he said — " I come to place myself under the protection of 
your prince and laws." This act of magnanimous confidence 
cost the greatest man of that age, if not of all ages, his" liber- 
ty for life, and a lingering death of torment for six years, 
imbittered by the insults and tyranny of his jailers ! 

cc. 

On the 23d, the vessel passed Ushant, and for the last time 
Napoleon gazed on the coast of France. The final decision 
of the British Government was communicated to their pri- 
soner the 31st. It was that General, Bonaparte should be 
transported to St. Helena, without being permitted to land 
on the shores of England ; and allowed to take with him 
three officers, one surgeon, and twelve domestics — Savary 
and L'Allemand being excluded from the persons of his 
choice. Napoleon solemnly protested against this arbitrary 



VOYAGE TO ST. HELENA. 213 

and cruel decision, but without avail. In a nation where 
rank is worshiped from king to beggar, to deny to the Em- 
peror, the title by which all other nations recognized him, 
was an act of cowardly meanness, now that he was powerless 
in the hands of his enemies. It was the beginning of a suc- 
cession of petty annoyances, followed up for years, by which 
England imbittered and shortened the life of the man she 
could now hate with impunity. 

cci. 
The illustrious prisoner was transferred to the Northum- 
berland, (under Admiral Sir George Cockburn), with his 
suite, consisting of Marshal Bertrand, General Montholon, 
and their ladies and children, Dr. O'Meara, an Irish naval 
surgeon, and twelve upper servants of the late imperial 
household, who desired to share in the fortunes of their mas- 
ter. On the 8th of August, the ship which bore the de- 
throned Emperor left England, and after a voyage of about 
seventy days, came in sight of St. -Helena. Napoleon was 
forty-six years old when his exile began. 

ecu. 
From the first hour of his imprisonment to the last, the 
British Government made his life a studied insult — an un- 
ceasing torment. Requests were denied, comforts withheld, 
and every indignity offered. His intercourse with Europe 
was more completely cut off, than it had been during the 
Campaign of Egypt. Only at long intervals could he re- 
ceive a message of affection from his friends, and it was 
through some old newspaper that he, from time to time, 
learned that his son, or wife, or mother, or other members of 
his family, were still alive. This life of torture lasted six 
years — every day of which seemed a whole life of misery. 



214 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 

There were few men who, under any circumstances, could 
suffer more keenly than Napoleon — probably of the thousand 
million of the earth's inhabitants, no one suffered so much. 
Even with every token of respect, and every alleviation 
humanity could have dictated, the cancer which was slowly 
consuming his vitals, ought to have been an avenger cruel 
enough to appease the anger of his foes. He was for so 
many years under its influence, men have ceased to wonder 
that he was sometimes passionate, impatient, or even unjust 

CCIII. 

In spite of the ceaseless efforts of the British press to 
keep alive the hatred with which Napoleon had been hunted 
down — and notwithstanding the vigilance of his jailer that 
no true account of affairs should be sent to Europe, the 
course of the British Government had from the beginning 
been boldly criticized by many of the best men in England ; 
and when the facts at last came out, a general sentiment of 
indignation was inflamed against Great Britain throughout 
the world. The day has already come, when there is not an 
Englishman on the earth who does not blush at the treat- 
ment of Napoleon, by a great and powerful state which 
could have afforded to be magnanimous even to its worst foe. 

We can give no idea of his life in St. Helena in this 
work. At last, after a lingering illness, it became apparent 
to his surgeon in the beginning of May, 1821, that Napo- 
leon must soon die. He expected it himself. He had 
already lived much longer than he desired- — and he had 
completed all his preparations to leave the earth. He was 
surrounded by Bertrand, Montholon, and other devoted 
friends, a id he had given to them his final instructions. 



DEATH OF NAPOLEON. 215 

CCIV. 

Tlie 4tli of May was ushered in with a wild storm which 
swept the island, tearing up almost all the trees about Long- 
wood and shaking the humble dwelling where the imperial 
sufferer lay. He had fallen into a delirious stupor from 
which he was hardly to wake again on earth. The storm 
continued through the night with increasing violence, and 
^' twice,'' says the faithful Montholon, "I thought I distin- 
guished the unconnected words, ' France — armee^ tete dJarmee 
— Josephine.'' " These were his last words, and they bespoke 
the dreams of battle, love and empire, through which his 
soul was passing to another life. All the following day he 
lay motionless on his back, " with his right hand out of the 
bed and his eyes fixed, seemingly absorbed in deep medita- 
tion, and without any appearance of suffering ; his lips were 
slightly contracted, and his whole face expressed pleasant 
and gentle impressions." 

Finally, at half-past five in the evening — after another day 

of tempests — he ceased to breathe, and the Founder of the 

Napoleon Dynasty had passed forever from the reach of 

his enemies. 

ccv. 

On the 6th, the body of the Emperor was clothed in the 
uniform of the Chasseurs of his Guard, and laid on his camp- 
bed in the narrow chamber, with the cloak he had worn at 
Marengo thrown over his feet. The regiments of the gar- 
rison and the crews of the fleet in full dress, defiled, unarmed, 
before the deceased Conqueror — all bent the knee in in- 
voluntary homage, and some of the officers entreated to be 
allowed the honor of passing the glass-door of the room 
where he lay, to press to their lips a corner of the cloak of 
Marengo. 



216 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 



CCVI. 



On tlie evening of the 7tli, " the body of the Emperor,'' 
says the proces-verbal of Bertrand, Montholon and Marchand 
" being clothed in the uniform of the Chasseurs of his Guard, 
was by us, the undersigned, placed in a tin coffin, lined with 
white satin, and having a pillow and matrass of the same ; 
we also put into this coffin the heart, inclosed in a silver 
vase, surmounted by the Imperial Eagle, and the box con- 
taining the stomach ; also a silver vase, engraved with the 
Imperial Arms, a cover of silver ditto, a plate ditto, six 
double Napoleons in French gold, four single gold Napo- 
leons, a double silver Napoleon, and two Italian double 
Napoleons of gold. The first coffin having been soldered 
in our presence, was placed in another of lead, which, after 
having been also soldered, was inclosed in a third coffin of 
mahogany. On the 9th of May, at eleven o'clock, the gar- 
rison being under arms and lining the way, the cortege 
quitted Longwood : the corners of the cloak which he had 
worn in every campaign since Marengo, were held by Count 
Bertrand, Count Montholon, Napoleon Bertrand, and Mar- 
chand ; the Countess Bertrand, and the whole of the Empe- 
ror's household surrounded the funeral car. The staff, and 
successively the whole garrison, followed in its rear. At 
noon, the Almoner of the Emperor having blessed the grave 
dug by the fountain Colbett, and the prayers being con- 
cluded, the coffin was lowered into the^^rave, amidst the 
reports of salvoes of artillery from the forts and the ships of 
the squadron. The grave was then filled in and closed with 
masonry in our presence, and a guard of honor placed beside 
it." 

CCVII. 

For a quarter of a century Napoleon had now slept in his 
volcanic tomb ; but his ideas had been slowly revolutionizing 



REMOVAL OF NAPOLEOX's ASHES. 217 

Euiope. The elder Bourbons, whom England and her 
Allies had fought for twenty-five years to restore, had once 
more been driven into exile by an outraged and indignant 
people. The inauguration of Louis Phillippe, as the Citizen 
King of France, had quelled for another decade the irre- 
pressible spirit of liberty and progress which Napoleon had 
awakened : and France, which had spilt so much precious 
blood in the Wars of the Revolution, the Consulate and the 
Empire, now greeted with subdued but hopeful enthusiasm 
the accession of a Sovereign, who would give her domestic 
tranquillity, restore the shattered fortunes of her people, and 
unfold before them a future of hope. 

But while the hum of business was again heard along all 
her marts of commerce, and the glad peasants were training 
anew their vines towards the genial sun of the south, and 
palace. Boulevard and promenade were radiant with luxury, 
fashion and pleasure. Napoleon and his Iliad of glory were 
not forgotten. They treasured these things in their hearts. 
The peasant by his fire-side, the mariner on the distant sea, 
the metropolitan in his giddy whirl of pleasure, and above 
all, the scarred veterans, the shattered wrecks of the grande 
armee — wept over his fate, and all called for the execution of 
his last will, which had desired that his body might be borne 
to the banks of the Seine, and buried in the bosom of the 
French People. 

CCYIII. 

At last the French Government responded to this ap 
peal, and at the request of Thiers, the Premier of France, 
England surrendered the ashes of her illustrious victim. 
Louis Phillippe commissioned his son, the Prince de Join- 
ville, to bring home the body of the Emperor, and this noble 
young sailor spread the sails of the Bellepoule for Saint 
Helena. 



218 NAPOLEOX BOXAPARTE. 

After all the preparations had been made, at midnight, 
[loth October, 1840], the sepulchre of Napoleon was opened. 
There lay the body of the Emperor as he had sunk to his 
last sleep. Time, which spares nothing, had kept sacred the 
form which enshrined that great spirit. To the eye and to 
the touch, the body was almost as entire as when it was 
laid there ; and, as the surgeon lifted from the face, the satin 
veil, which had rested there a quarter of a century, those 
who bent over the body, (and some of them had assisted 
in laying him in his coffin,) were startled by the unchanged 
and still speaking features of the dead Emperor. 

ccix. • 

On the morning of December 9th, a reveille summoned 
the National Guard at Havre, which had been joined by the 
guard of Montivillers from the interior — to pay their last 
tribute to the dust of the deceased Emperor of France ; and 
at seven, the little squadron turned their prows toward 
the mouth of the Seine. " Gradually," says the man in 
whose arms Napoleon died, " the vessel with its glorious 
burden was borne on the waves away from the deeply -moved 
multitude, whose solemn silence was only broken by the 
first cannon, announcing that the mortal remains of the 
Emperor had entered a French river, that Seine whose 
shores he had chosen for his resting-place. At the same 
moment, and as it were at the signal given by the artillej-y, 
the sun rose, pure and brilliant, above the hills that bound 
the river. The coffin (which was in full view on the vessel.) 
seemed surrounded by a luminous atmosphere, of which the 
rays of the golden crown that rested on the pall were the 
centre. This was not a prestige; Napoleon re-entered 
France, encircled by glory — the sun of Austerlitz saluted 
the return of the hero. As the funeral convoy now began 



219 

to ascend the Seine, the banks of this river became crowded 
with multitudes of spectators, whose presence was attested 
by shots fired as a salute by aged peasants, become soldiers 
again to present arms to the ashes of their General." 

ccx. 

And so up the glorious Seine, through cities, green fields, 
and under the walls of castles, the convoy rode on, bearing 
the imperial coffin surrounded by wax-lights, covered with 
the imperial pall, and shaded by a group of standards. On 
the 15th of December, in the midst of the most imposing 
and magnificent ceremonies Paris had ever witnessed, the 
body of the Emperor was borne to the Invalides, where it 
lay for many days publicly exposed, and around it France 
gathered in veneration and love. On the 6th of February, 
the coffin was taken from the imperial cenotaph, and placed 
in the chapel of St. Jerome, in the church of the Invalides, 
where it was to remain till the completion of the mausoleum. 
On the coffin lay the chapeau the hero had worn at Eylau, 
his sword and imperial crown ; and over these emblems 
waved the standards taken at Austerlitz. Within their 
folds one of the Eagles of the Empire spread its golden 
wings, and looked down on the hero with whose banners it 
had flown from the Gulf of the Adriatic to the Pillars of Her- 
cules, and from the Snows of Pussia to the Sands of the 
Pyramids. Four of his Old Guard with naked sabrep, 
watched day and night by the ashes of their beloved Chief 



BOOK III. 



JOSEPHINE. 

Born at St. Pierre, Martinique, June 23, 1763 ; Died at Malmai- 

son, May 29, 1814; Buried in the Parish Church 

of the Village of Ruel, near Paris. 




I 



Si 



JOSEPHINE. 



THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE. 



In walking througli tlie portrait-gallery of those who 
flourished during the time of Napoleon, there is no one that 
has arrested the gaze of so many eyes as Josephine. Around 
her history lingers a charm which genius alone has been 
able to throw over the pages of romance. Among the most 
beautiful of women, and graced by every charm which cap- 
tivates the heart, she was gifted with so much genius and 
good sense that she preserved to the last the affections of 
the mightiest and the most wayward of men. 

No man has ever yet been able to read the history of 
Josephine's divorce without a sigh of sorrow ; and yet 
Heaven, which had once linked her fate with Napoleon's, 
had linked them forever. The mother, who had given birth 
to those beautiful children who flashed as gems from the 
crown of Napoleon, could give birth to no more on her 
second marriage, and she was cast aside from motives of 
state policy, and yielding, as she did, with so much submis- 
sion^ and the same grace which adorned all her actions, she 
became dearer to the world than ever. 

II. 

But Heaven has vindicated her, and she has been more 
than revenged. At last Providence has accomplished even 
for the ambition of Napoleon, what the heart of Josephine 
so many years longed for. Her blood has mingled with the 
blood of the Bonapartes in founding the Napoleon Dynasty, 



224 EMPRESS JOSEPHINE. 

for her grand-son noiv sits on the throne of France. Those wlio 
believe in the " divine right of kings," and that Heaven 
watches over the fortunes of monarchs with special and pa- 
ternal care, ought not, in this case, to give up their faith, 
and th^y are bound to suppose that Heaven is not only the 
founder, but the friend of the Napoleon Dynasty. The Con- 
queror of Europe had a son by his second wife, but that son 
was torn from his arms, and carried away by his enemies, 
taught through life to regard his father with abhorrence, and 
died at last without having indicated the genius of his Sire. 
But a son of Josephine's daughter, (the beautiful Hortense), 
after the convulsions of almost half a century had passed, 
was to be raised by the most unforeseen and unexpected 
events to the same seat of power his Uncle once filled ; and 
now the world looks on the spectacle of the union of the 
blood of Napoleon and Josephine, in the present Emperor 
of the French Eepublic. 

III. 

Marie- Joseph-Rose-Tascher, the only child of Joseph- 
Gaspard-Tascher and Rose-Claire-Desvergers de Sanois, was 
born in the capital of Martinique. Both of her parents were 
natives of France, though married in St. Domingo, [1761]. 
M. Tascher appears to have joined the army at an early age, 
and became a captain of horse — a circumstance, which be- 
speaks distinguished birth, since, until the Revolution hatl 
overwhelmed the Feudal System, no office of honor or emolu- 
ment could be held under the Crown, except by the noblesse. 
In the year 1758 he was dispatched to the West Indies with 
some military commission from the Court of France, of 
whose nature or termination we know nothing. At the 
period of Josephine's birth, he was residing on his estate in 
St. Domingo. We have unsuccessfully searched for anj 



225 

traces of interest in tlie history of Josephine's mother, but 
we have been able to learn only that she was born of an an- 
cient noble family, in the south of France, and had accom- 
panied her family to the French possessions in the West In- 
dies, after misfortune had stripped them of most of their 
estates at home. 

IV. 

By the early death of her mother, Josephine was placed 
in the care of an aunt of talent and culture, who seems to 
have devoted herself to the education of her ward, with as- 
siduity and enthusiasm. How extraordinary was the success 
which rewarded her exertions and solicitudes, the history, 
the graces and the accomplishments of Josephine afterwards 
proclaimed to all the world. 

We cannot ascertain the exact period of the death of her 
father, but there is every reason to believe that it occurred 
during her early childhood, for in all her correspondence 
and conversations in reference to the members of her family, 
and her associates at every period of life, no one seems to 
have been overlooked, and therefore it is reasonable to sup- 
pose that she preserved but faint and few recollections of 
her father and mother. 

Madame Renaudin, the aunt who was charged with her 
education, had fortunately married a gentleman of respecta- 
bility and wealth, and Josephine was brought up with 
every appliance of comfort and luxury, and surrounded by 
I any of the embellishments of refined and polite life. 



All accounts seem to concur in the statement that the 
characteristic developments of Josephine from the earliest 
childhood were amiable and lovely. She possessed an in- 



226 EMPRESS JOSEPHINE. 

stinctive refinement of sentiment, tenderness of feeling and 
elegance of manner. The reader should not be betrayed 
into the mistake which has been so often incurred, of sup- 
posing that at the period "we are now speaking of, little of 
the refinement of Europe was known on this side of the 
Atlantic. This was, no doubt, the case in the British Colo- 
nies, except in those few circles which were irradiated im- 
mediately by the officers or agents of the British Crown. 
But it was far dijfferent in the French possessions of the New 
World. Yery many of the most gifted, refined, noble and 
opulent of the subjects of France chose these distant parts 
of the world for the scenes of their service and adventure, 
and particularly among the French Islands of our Cis- 
Atlantic Archipelago. The blandness of the climate of Mar- 
tinique, and the happy, and for a long time undisturbed social 
relations, of duties and obligations, of affection and respect, 
which subsisted in that island between the masters and their 
slaves, rendered it one of the favorite spots to which the 
young nobles of France, both in the Army and in the Navy 
considered it a pleasure to resort, particularly at the period 
we are now speaking of, when fierce agitations were pre- 
paring the way in France for the great Revolution of 1789. 
Home disturbances had sent a large number of enterprising 
and accomplished Frenchmen to the possessions of Louis in 
the Western World. Therefore it is not strange that the 
subject of this sketch should have come under the genial 
and refining influences which emanated at that period from 
the most enlightened, brilliant and cultivated nation on the 
earth. With such advantages her native refinement and 
genius for courtly society, prepared her for the brilliant 
scenes she was to mingle in, as the central star of imperial 
splendor under the martial reign of Napoleon. Her voice, 
although not trained in the severe school of art, was fa/ 



227 

softer and more touching than almost any of the singers of 
her age. She played well on several instruments, and 
especially on the harp, which has always been the favorite 
medium of the language of sentiment and poetry. 

When she opened the salons of the First Consul, and the 
age of proscription had past, inviting once more to the 
gilded halls of the French monarchs the high-born dames 
of France, with the courtly chivalry of the age of Louis 
XIY., those splendid assemblies gazed with astonishment 
upon the grace and faultless symmetry with which she 
floated through the dances of the Court. She was perhaps 
not eminently beautiful, when her countenance was in re- 
pose, but the moment she gazed upon a human face all the 
gentle sentiments that belong to the kindest hearts and the 
most genial souls, radiated from her features ; and, although 
the artists seldom succeeded, even with an attempt to flatter, 
in making very beautiful pictures of her, yet it was acknow- 
ledged on all hands that she was captivating in her manners 
and too beautiful to be painted at all. During her entire 
life there was a highly refined loveliness emanating from 
her countenance which baffles description, as it eluded in 
its evanescent loveliness the happiest touches of the pencil. 

Another courtly accomplishment she particularly ex- 
celled in — she not only inherited by nature a grace which 
imparted a special charm to all she did, but she possessed 
the most exquisite skill and genius in the courtly art of 
scenic embroidery. Some of her pieces of needle-work are 
Btill exhibited with pride in the salons and cabinets of 
Europe, and they are believed to surpass all that had been 
executed in European courts for at least a century. 



^28 EMPRESS JOSEPHIXE. 

VI. 

But her accomplishments extended to a broader and 
higher and nobler field. She had so far perfected herself in 
following her instinctive tastes and the instructions of her 
masters, that there was scarcely a flowering plant, or shrub, 
or beautiful green thing of any climate or nation, that her 
knowledge of botany did not at once enable her to define 
with precision and taste. There is a flower now, which is 
worn in the hair and on the bosom of every beautiful 
woman at the Courts of Europe during the unkindly frosts 
of winter, for which they are all indebted to Josephine. 
She introduced the Camelia from the West Indies, when she 
returned to France. This alone, with women of taste, ought 
to have been the highest and the most brilliant armorial 
bearing for her descendants forever. She not only sang 
well, as we have said, but she read most captivatingly — an 
accomplishment perhaps still rarer. There was many a 
period in the stormy life of the Emperor of France, when 
his passions were soothed, his anger softened, and even the 
fortunes of Europe affected propitiously by the harmonious 
and persuasive tones of Josephine's philosophical, historical, 
sentimental and poetical readings. Napoleon once said, 
after the acclamations of the French nation had greeted one 
of the first of his lofty flights of ambition, " that the first 
applause of the French people sounded as sweet in his ear 
as the voice of Josephine." Some of ourTeaders may not 
attach so much importance as we do to these often-called 
ephemeral and superficial graces ; but they were not evanes- 
cent, for they lasted through life ; and they were not superfi- 
cial, for they emanated from a harmonious and well-balanced 
mind ; and indeed so complete was the mental structure of 
Josephine's genius, that, in the symmetry and harmony 
of all its developments, it lost the erratic flashes that haxe 



Josephine's negro slave. 229 

usually asserted their claim to tliat kind of talent whicli the 
world has for ages bo^yed down to in adoration. 

Such was the simple Creole girl whose fortunes Heaven 
had linked with those of the greatest of Chieftains, and the 
most wonderful of modern Empires. 

YII. 

History by whomsoever written or however lofty may be 
its theme, should never overlook those humble individuals 
who in their little spheres perform their duties so well, that 
the relation of them in connection with characters of great 
importance may excite the admiration and regard of man- 
kind. Euphemie, the faithful and affectionate negro slave, 
who followed Josephine with such devotedness from her 
cradle through life, shall have her place in this narrative, 
before she is compelled to resign it to the ladies of honor 
of the French Empire. This family-servant, kind, gene- 
rous and devoted, who was the protector and companion of 
Josephine for so many years, and participated in her sub- 
sequent fortunes with such hearty rejoicing, invites us to stop 
a moment to inquire whether after all, in the great system of 
compensations which Providence has ordained, thei'e may 
not be more good than we have sometimes supposed, in 
those relations which impose the sacred obligations of grati- 
tude, protection and love, toward those amiable and often 
neglected children of the African race, who embellish the 
lives and administer to the luxury of prouder and superior 
nations. 

Yin. 

Josephine with the sweetest condescension and blandness 
of disposition did not refrain sometimes from joining in the 
dances, listening to the songs of the African maidens wlio 
]r»«»i/i *a j^athey" IP the garden or in the hall of her house — 



230 EMPRESS JOSEPHINE. 

an intimacy whicli no other form of society can possibly 
admit, between the mistress and servant, except that myste- 
rious and most inexplicable relation that subsists between 
the European and the slave. " I was not a stranger to their 
sports," she said, " and I hope I proved myself neither in- 
sensible to their griefs nor indifferent to their pleasures." 
We can hardly neglect the record here of an incident which 
may provoke the smile of many a readei', but it was so 
strange an event it put forth an influence upon the fancy of 
Josephine till the last hour of her life. If it may seem to 
border upon the realm of superstition, it is not below the 
realm of history to record it ; for its business is to make 
men familiar with whatever sways human fortunes. There- 
fore, in Josephine's own words, as she recorded them some 
years afterwards, and before their prophetic significance 
could possibly have dictated what we copy, she said — 

" One day, before my first marriage, in taking my morning 
walk, I observed several negro girls gathered around an old 
woman who was telling their fortunes. When I came up, 
the old sybil screamed out and seized my hand in the great- 
est agitation. Yielding to the absurdity, I gave it to her, 
and said — ' You discover, then, something wonderful in my 
destiny ; is it happiness or misfortune V ' Misfortune— and — 
stop ! — happiness, too !' ' You do not commit yourself, good 
Dame ?' ' I am not permitted to render them more clearly,' 
she said, as she looked up towards heaven ; but beginning 
to be interested, I asked, ' Can you tell me my futurity V 
*Will you believe me, if I do speak it?' ^Yes,' I said, 
* good mother, I will.' ' On your own head be it then. 
Listen! — you will soon be married — but you will not be 
happy. You will be a widow, and then — then you will 
be Queen of France. Some happy years will be yours, but 
jou will die in a hospital amid civil commotion.' " An 



MARRIAGE WITH BEAUHARNAIS. 231 

slie finished these words," says Josephine, " she burst away 
from the crowd and hurried as fast as her feeble limbs 
would carry her. I forbade the bystanders from troubling 
the old prophetess about this ridiculous prediction, and told 
the young negr esses, that they must never heed such stories. 
I laughed at it myself with my friends, but when my hus- 
band had died on the scaffold I could not keep this scene out 
of my fancy ; and though I was in prison when its fulfill- 
ment seemed less possible than ever, so deeply did it over- 
shadow me, I could not feel that it would not all become a 
reality.'^ 

IX. 

Just as Josephine had completed her sixteenth year, she 
became the wife of Yicomte Alexander de Beauharnais, a 
young noble, who held a commission in the French army, 
and who, from the most credible accounts, had clandestinely 
embarked in one of those small expeditions which, with the 
favor of Louis, had sailed to this country to aid our Colonies 
in the War of Independence, before the brilliant expedition 
for the same purpose was fitted out and dispatched under 
D'Estang in the beginning of 1778. We have made many 
investigations with the hope of tracing the part which the 
Yicomte played in our own revolutionary drama ; but we 
have succeeded only in ascertaining that in January, 1778, 
he held a regular commission in the army of Louis, sailed 
for the British Colonies in America, fought among the 
troops under Rochambeau, and subsequently sailed for Mar- 
tinique to assert his right to estates which had recently 
fallen to him and his brother, the Marquis de Beauharnais, 
on the death of a relation. Our disappointment at the 
failure of these investigations is the greater, since Provi- 
dence seems to have connected in a peculiar manner the 
fortunes of the French Nation, and particularly the members 



232 EMPRESS JOSEPHIXB. 

of the Bonaparte family with this country. But the records 
and military rolls of our Revolution were so informally kept, 
and so few of them have been preserved, that we fear no 
subsequent researches will be more successful than our own. 
The estates which the young French noble inherited, 
joined the domains of M. Renaudin. The vicinity of their 
residences soon made him and Josephine acquainted, and 
not long after they were united in marriage. In 1T94, 
Josephine, in the following language, thus speaks of the 
nuptials — "If I have been indebted to" your father for all 
my happiness, (she is addressing her children), I can venture 
to say that I owe the union to my own character— so many 
were the obstacles which opposed it. But without any effort 
of talent I effected their removal. My own heart gave me 
the means of winning the affection of my husband's family 
— patience and kindness are sure at last to conciliate the 
good will of all. You, too, possess, my dear children, these 
facilities which cost so little,, and achieve so much ; but you 
jnust know how to employ them, and I may with propriety 
in this respect, ask you to imitate my example." 



Not long after her marriage, Josephine, with her husband, 
sailed for France, [1779]. They were received with sur- 
prise, delight and courtesy, in Paris, and when Josephine 
was introduced to the Court of Marie- Antoinette, she at 
once became a favorite with that splendid, amiable, but 
unfortunate queen. All her graces created surprise and 
excited admiration ; and could the future then have been 
unfolded to those two beautiful women, who, when they 
conversed together, created the centre of attraction and 
elegance in the Court of St. Cloud, a chill of hori'or would 
have run to the centre of every heart. 



SEPARATION AND RECONCILIATION. 233 

Several summers were passed by Josephine and her hus- 
band in traveling through France, while their home was on 
his estates in Brittany — where (September 3d, 1780,) Jose- 
phine gave birth to her only son Eugene, and three years 
later to Hortense, her only daughter. 

XI. 

The intercourse between Josephine and her husband was 
marked for several years by every sign of mutual regard 
and affection ; but her peace was at last destroyed by au 
estrangement of his affection, in consequence of an attach- 
ment he had formed for another person. It ended in a 
voluntary separation, and Josephine, with her children, 
returned to Martinique, where they remained for several 
years, with no expectation of ever again being greeted 
kindly by the father and the husband. Thus early fell a 
cloud over the heart of Josephine in this first marriage, 
which was but a precursor of the wild storm that so many 
years ttfterwards desolated her peace. 

At last, in circumstances of destitution, Josephine re- 
turned with her children to France ; a reconciliation with 
her husband was effected, and so completely did she forgive, 
and so magnanimous was the spirit with which the injured 
wife again received her husband, that she adopted his 
natural daughter, for whom she made ample and splendid 
provision under the Empire. 

XII. 

Beauharnais had espoused the cause of the Revolution 
when it first broke out, and had been returned to the Con- 
stitutional Assembly as Representative for the noblesse of 
Blois. In 1792, he also became a member of the National 
Convention, of which he was twice President. Although 



234 EMPRESS JOSEPHINE. 

he was most entliusiastically devoted to tlie principles of 
republican liberty, and sustained Lafayette in the course 
that celebrated patriot took during that period of trouble, 
still his public career was marked by a spirit of moderation, 
and he was known as a member of the party of the Giron- 
dists, over whose sufferings, heroism and patriotic services, 
the genius of Lamartine has thrown so brilliant historic 
glow. 

The triumph of the Jacobins in 1793 overwhelmed Beau- 
harnais in the destruction of his party, and this amiable 
and patriotic man with a whole army of the friends of 
France, of humanity and of freedom, combining much of the 
intelligence and all the moderation of the State, were swept 
into the prisons of Paris, and immolated upon the altar of 
Eobespierre. There was something particularly touching 
in the condemnation and death of Beauharnais, for he was 
a Major- General of France, and had occupied the post 
which Moreau, the hero of Hohenlinden, subsequently filled, 
and he was the only Commander-in-Chief of all France who 
had ventured to return to his country after the first explo- 
sion of the Eevolution. When he was consigned to the 
dungeons of the Luxembourg, his only crimes were rank and 
merit. If we could spare the space, we should feel it a 
duty to trace minutely, the manly conduct of this noble 
officer during the period of his imprisonment, and when 
he went to execution. The conduct also of Josephine 
during the imprisonment of her husband, was worthy of all 
praise, and several unfortunate persons, whom her efforts, 
persuasions or influence had rescued from death, lived to 
present their grateful thanks at her feet when she was ele- 
vated to the most brilliant throne in the world. 



235 



XIII. 



The blow which had fallen upon her husband, was destined 
not long after to prostrate herself. She was arrested in her 
house, and conducted to prison. In describing the scene, 
he says — " A loud knocking was heard at the outer door of 
the house. I saw that my hour was come, and finding the 
requisite courage in the consciousness that the blow was 
inevitable, I resigned myself to endurance. While the 
tumult continued increasing, I passed into my children's 
apartment — they were sleeping, and their peaceful slumber, 
contrasted with their mother's trouble, made me weep. I 
impressed upon my daughter's forehead, alas ! perhaps my 
last kiss : she felt the maternal tears ; and, though still 
asleep, clasped her arms around my neck, whispering in 
broken murmurs — ' Come to bed ; fear nothing ; they sha'nt 
take you away to-night, for I have prayed to God for you.' 
Meanwhile a crowd had entered my sitting-room, and at the 
head of ferocious and armed men, stood the President, whose 
prejudices against my husband were deemed by him sufficient 
warrant for my arrest. * * Seals were placed on every 
article with lock and key, and I was conducted to the house 
of detention of the Carmelites. Oh ! what shudderings came 
over me as I crossed that threshold still wet with blood !" 

; XIV. 

This prison, which witnessed some of the most ferocious 
scenes of brutality that have ever been perpetrated on the 
earth, was the theatre of the massacres of the early part of 
September, 1793, in which upwards of seven thousand per- 
sons, most of them men and women of distinction, character 
and virtue, were deliberately slaughtered by a Jacobin mob. 
Josephine herself was confined in the apartment where the 
priests had been incarcerated, several hundreds of whom 



236 EMPRESS JOSEPHINE. 

had been stabbed in the chapel of the convent, or had their 
brains dashed out before its altars. Few who once crossed 
the fatal threshold where Josephine was now confined, ever 
returned. She had confided her sleeping children to the 
protection of Providence, then the only hope of the Patriot 
or the Christian remaining in France, and had left them 
sleeping, when she was dragged away to prison. Eugene 
and Hortense, those innocent and beautiful children, awoke 
from their slumbers the next morning worse than orphans, 
in the vast solitude of that agitated and bleeding city. 
They embraced each other and wept, when they found their 
mother gone, and with a discretion far beyond their years, 
determined to communicate at once the sad intelligence to 
their aunt, who lived at Yersailles, some fifteen miles from 
Paris. 

XV. 

During the period of her imprisonment, in consequence, it 
is supposed, of the amiability and loveliness which Josephine 
invariably displayed, the severities of her treatment were so 
far softened, that she was allowed the liberty, conceded to 
few, of corresponding with her family. She says, in one of 
her notes to her children, who had been removed to Fon- 
tainbleau — " Your letters, though of the same date, reached 
me at an interval of three days from each other. They are 
sweet little notes, my dear babes, for they truthfully tell 
how much you love me, and are so well composed, that if 
your aunt had not assured me she had given you no help in 
writing them, I think I should have recognized the hand of 
the ' Fairy.'' But if she did not write your little letters, she 
informed me of your excellent behavior ; and in your notes 
I discover new proofs of her goodness and amiable disposi- 
tion. Your father will be as much delighted as I am. You 
act nobly, thus to give us cause for consolation, while wicked 



- JOSEPHINE S APPEAL FOR HER HUSBAND. 237 

mcL persecute us. They will be punislied, and pass away ; 
but /ou, my good children, will enjoy the recompense in 
your affectionate hearts which you merit, and you will yet 
witness our happiness. Now go and put yourselves one on 
each side of the benevolent ' Fairy,' and kiss her for your 
father and me. Continue to be good that we may love you 
better and better." 

XVI. 

At length, when Josephine became especially alarmed, 
lest her husband should be immediately sacrificed to the 
ferocity of Robespierre's reign, she addressed a letter to 
citizen Prosper Sigas, the new Minister of War, who was to 
prepare the report to be presented to the Committee of 
General Safety, in regard to her husband. She says — " I 
give thanks to Heaven that you are to be my judge, for if I 
had had the choice, it would have fallen on you. * * I^ too, 
have become one of those whose unfortunates you have en- 
deavored to mitigate and I unite my gratitude with that of 
the many desolate beings whom you have labored to make 
forgetful of their calamities. Nor are you ignorant that my 
sorrows increase in bitterness every day, while my husband 
remains in prison without a trial. He no longer asks his 
liberty — he only demands that he may be tried. A brave 
soldier has a right to this, when accused of a crime which 
compromises his honor. Alexander de Beauharnais, a con- 
spirator ! — One of the founders of liberty attempting its 
overthrow ! You, citizen, have never believed this accusa- 
tion. Let not his judges any longer give credit to the im- 
putation. * * I speak of myself only to enable you to ap- 
preciate the injustice done to Alexander. Forget the per- 
secuted mother, and her dispersed children, to think only of 
the father and husband, or rather of the soldier and the citi- 
zen, who is worthy of recovering his honor and liberty.'' 



238 EMPRESS JOSEPHINE. 

XYII. 

Josephine's application was so far successful, that her hus- 
band was brought to the office of the Committee of General 
Safety, and arrangements had been made by which she could 
there meet him. She was waiting in an ante-room, ready 
to be summoned before the Committee. Ignorant of the at- 
tempts which her friends were making for their release, and 
trembling with apprehension at every step- heard in the ad- 
joining apartments, she was sitting alone in her grief, when 
the door opened, and Beauharnais entered. They rushed 
into each other's arms, and, in the touching language of 
Josephine, they enjoyed " moments of felicity which softened, 
nay, almost obliterated a whole year of misery. Alexander 
wept with joy when he once more beheld me, but as we were 
soon to be separated, he became calm and collected. He 
embraced me more like a friend, than a husband, and recom- 
mended our children to my care. Such tranquillity becomes 
innocence like his. Now I grieve that the Committee did 
not see him. Could they have resisted such magnanimous 
virtue?" 

XVIII. 

But the long imprisonment of Beauharnais was quickly to 
find a sad and tragic termination. Soon after the interview 
of which we have spoken, without a hearing, without a trial, 
sentence of death was pronounced on him, [July 27, 1794], 
and the next morning his head fell from the block of the 
guillotine. He was one of the last victims of the Keign of 
Terror ; for only two days later Robespierre himself fell. 
Had the heroic Beauharnais lived forty-eight hours longer, 
Josephine would probably have been, in later years, known 
only as the wife of a Marshal of France. While the bitter- 
est tears of an affectionate wife were still falling over her 
murdered husband, Josephine, who had been sent to her 



239 

prison again, where slie was confined witli a large number 
of others of her sex, was always in sadness and gloom, but 
with noble resolution preparing to meet her own fate. The 
next morning, [July 27 J, that - death-cart which had borne 
such vast numbers to the place of execution, had been or- 
dered to drive to the door of Josephine's prison ; but Heaven 
itself had, in the meantime, put an end to the Reign of 
Terror by the bolt of vengeance which ended the butcheries 
with the life of Robespierre. This fiend of the French 
Revolution had fallen on the evening of the 26th. 

As a fitting tribute to this generous and heroic man, and 
one of the noblest victims of the Reign of Terror, we must 
find space for the last letter of the Yicomte de Beauhar- 
nais to his wife. 

XIX. 

" Night of the 6-7 th Thermidor, > 

Year 2, Conciergerie (24-25th July, ]794.) > 

" Yet some moments to tenderness, to tears, and to re- 
gret — then wholly to the glory of :my fate, to the grand 
thoughts of immortality. When you receive this letter, my 
Josephine, your husband will have long ceased to live here, 
but, in the bosom of his God, he will have begun to enjoy a 
real existence. Thou seest, then, that there is indeed no 
cause for mourning on his account : it is over the wicked, 
the insensate men who survive him, that tears are to be 
shed ; for they inflict, and are incapable of repairing the 
evil. But let us not sully with their guilty image these last 
moments. I would, on the contrary, adorn them by the 
thought, that, having been united to a charming woman, I 
might have beheld the years passed with her glide away 
without the slightest cloud, had not wrongs, of which I be- 
came sensible only when too late, troubled our union. This 
reflection wrings tears from me. Thy generous soul par- 



£40 EMPRESS JOSEPHINE. 

doned tlie moment that suffering overtook me ; and I ought 
to recompense thee for such kindness, by enjoying, without 
recalling it to thy remembrance, since I must thus bring 
back the recollection of my errors and thy sorrows. What 
thanks do I owe to Providence, who will bless thee ! 

" Now Heaven disposes of me before my time ; and even 
this is one of its mercies. Can the good man live without 
grief when he sees the world a prey to the wicked ? I 
should think myself happy, therefore, in being removed from 
their power, did I not feel that I abandon to them beings so 
valued and beloved. If, however, the thoughts of the dying 
be presentiments, I experience one in the recesses of my 
heart which assures me that these horrible butcheries are 
soon to be suspended — that to the victims are to succeed 
their executioners — that the arts and sciences, the true 
prosperity of states, shall flourish again in France — that 
wise and equitable laws will reign after these cruel sacri- 
fices — and that you will obtain that happiness of which you 
were always worthy, and which to the present time has fled 
from you. Our children will contribute to your felicity — 
they will discharge their father's debt. 

" I resume these incoherent and almost illegible lines, 
which my jailers had interrupted. 

" I have just undergone a cruel formality, which, under 
any other circumstances, they should have forced me to 
endure only by depriving me of life. But^why strive agai^ist 
necessity ? Reason requires that we do all for the best. My 
hair has been cut off. I have contrived to purchase back a 
portion of it, in order to bequeath to my wife, and to my 
children, undeniable evidence, pledges of my last recol- 
lections. I feel that at this thought my heart is breaking, 
and tears bedew the paper. Farewell, all that I love ! Love 
^,ach other ; speak of me ; and never forget that the glory 



JOSEPHINE S IMPRISONMENT. 241 

of dying the victim of tyrants, the martyr of freedom, enno- 
bles a scaffold." 

XX. 

A single word on tl'e immediate cause of the downfall of 
Kobespierre : — M. Tallien, subsequently one of the Directory 
of France, who cherished a devoted passion for Madame de 
Fontenoy, had held many interviews with this accomplished 
and graceful woman, through the guarded casements of her 
Carmelite prison, and seventy of her fellow-inmates had on 
the day after the death of Beauharnais, been informed that, 
on the next morning, they would be borne to the place of 
execution. She and Josephine had but one hope of escape, 
which was to warn M. Tallien during his evening visit by 
some sign, that would not be observed by others, of their 
terrible position ; and they went to the casement carelessly 
and sadly, as if to gaze in peace for the last time, on the 
pure heaven, and breathe its fresh air. At last M. Tallien 
appeared under the walls, and Madame de Fontenoy threw 
from the prison-bars a cabbage-stalk, in which was concealed 
a piece of paper containing these words : — " My trial is de- 
cided — the result is certain. If you love me, as you say, 
urge every means to save France and me." 

XXI. 

Tallien snatched the scrap, read it with agitation, and 
instantly joined some of his friends, when he pledged himself 
to go to the Convention, and publicly accuse the tyrant 
Robespierre. This detestable villain had not a friend in all 
France ; and standing as he did upon the verge of ruin, \t 
required but a single resolute man to brave him face to face 
in the Convention, and he would be hurled to the abyss. As 
soon as the session opened, St. Just, who foresaw the down- 
fall of his master, took the Tribune to save him. While 



:242 EMPRESS JOSEPHINE. 

Taliien was dragging him from the place, he screamed — " I 
lift the veil !" " And I," said Taliien, with a shout of despe- 
ration, " rend it asunder." The announcement fell upon 
the excited Assembly like a peal of thunder : and in one 
of those wild appeals which that Convention so often wit- 
nessed, burning with the intensest satire, and charged with 
electric eloquence, he heaped upon the head of the trembling 
Robespierre, the whole catalogue of his crimes. Our readers 
are all familiar with the result. Robespierre was himself 
the final victim of his own Eeign of Terror. 

XXII. 

Josephine has herself given in the simplest language, a 
most interesting account of the manner in which the down- 
fall of the tyrant was communicated to that group of seventy 
women, who were waiting their execution on the following 
day. She says — " Madame d'Arguillon, prostrated with the 
thought of approaching death, so abruptly communicated, I 
drew towards the window, which I opened to admit the 
fresh air. I saw a woman of the lower class make signs to 
us from below, which we could not understand. * * Her joy 
was extreme when she saw that we at length perfectly un- 
derstood her. With great eagerness, she made the sign of 
cutting the throat, and began dancing and shouting. This 
strange pantomime stirred in our hearts a feeling that can- 
not De described, since we did not dare to hope that by 
these gestures she was intimating the death of Robespierre. 
At tins very moment, while we were trembling between hope 
and despair, a loud noise was heard in the corridor, and the 
tern Die voice of the turn-key, who, in kicking his dog, cried, 
* Out with you, brute of a Robespierre !' This coarse but 
glorious language echoed the emancipation of Fi-ance, and 
a few minutes after, our companions in misfortune burst into 



CONSEQUENCES OF ROBESriEKRE's DEATH. ?43 

the apartment, to give us the details of tliat grand event. 
It was the ninth Thermidor — The anniversary of the pronhecy 
which had foretold my elevation. My flock-bed was restored 
to me, and on this couch I passed the most delightful nignt 
of my life. I fell asleep, after saying to my companions, 
You see I am not guillotined yet, and I shall live to become 
Queen of France.^ " 

XXIII. 

In our sketch of Napoleon we have already traced tne 
progress of events, by which, through the favor of Barras, 
the aspiring officer who had conducted himself so well at 
Toulon, was charged with the important commission of com- 
manding the troops at the time of the rising of the Sections 
against the authority of the Convention. A fortunate com- 
bination of circumstances for which Napoleon was indebted, 
partly to his gallantry and skill at Toulon, which gained for 
him the respect and confidence of Barras ; and partly to tne 
interest M. Tallien felt for him after his marriage witii 
Madame Fontenoy, the intimate friend of Josephine and her 
companion in the prison of the Carmelites — gave him the 
brilliant opportunity, which he so readily embraced, of as- 
serting the supremacy of law and order in Paris, on the 13th 
Yendemaire. The Ciuelling of the Sections was followed by 
the restoration of complete tranquillity, and the establish- 
ment of a new Constitution, the execution of the laws being 
confided to a Directory of five persons, of whom Barras was 
the chief. The demand which young Eugene had made on 
'General Bonaparte, for the sword of his father, resulted in 
an intimacy between him and Josephine, which soon ended 
in marriage, and under circumstances which Josephine has 
herself related, in the following letter to a friend — 



244 EMPRESS JOSErHINE. 

XXIY. 

'' My Dear Friend, — I am urged to marry again : my 
friends counsel the measure ; my aunt almost lays her injunc- 
tions upon me to the same effect, and my children entreafc 
my compliance. Why are you not here to give me your ad- 
vice in this important conjuncture ? — to persuade me that I 
ought to consent to a union which must put an end to the 
irksomeness of my present position ? Yaur friendship, in 
which I have already experienced so much to praise, would 
render you clear-sighted for my interests ; and I should de- 
cide without hesitation as soon as you had spoken. You 
have met General Bonaparte in my house. Well !— he it is 
who would supply a father's place to the orphans of Alexan- 
der de Beauharnais, and a husband's to his widow. 

"'Do you love him?' you will ask. Not exactly. 'You 
then dislike him?' Not quite so bad ; but I find myself in 
that state of indifference which is anything but agreeable, 
and which to devotees in religion gives more trouble than 
all their peccadilloes. Love, being a species of w^orship, 
also requires that one feel very differently from all this ; 
and hence the need I have of your advice, which might fix 
tlie perpetual irresolution of my feeble character. To as- 
sume a determination has ever appeared fatiguing to my 
Creole supineness, which finds it infinitely more convenient 
to follow the will of others. 

" I admire the General's courage— the- extent of his ih- 
formation, for on all subjects he talks equally well — and 
the quickness of his judgment, which enables him to seize 
the thoughts of others almost before they are expressed : 
but i confess it, I shrink from the despotism he seems 
desirous of exei'cising over all who approach him. His 
searching glance has something singular and inexplicable, 
which imposes even on our Directors : judge if it may not 



245 

intimidate a woman ! Even — what ought to please me — the 
force of a passion, described with an energy that leaves not 
a doubt of his sincerity, is precisely the cause which arrests 
the consent I am often on the point of pronouncing. 

" Being now past the heyday of youth, can I hope long to 
preserve that ardor of attachment which, in the General, 
resembles a fit of delirium ? If, after our union, he should 
cease to love me, will he not reproach me with what he will 
have sacrificed for my sake ? — will he not regret a more 
brilliant marriage which he might have contracted ? What 
shall I then reply ? — what shall I do ? I shall weep. ' Ex- 
cellent resource !' you will say. Good heavens ! I know that 
all this can serve no end ; but it has ever been thus ; tears 
are the only resource left me when this poor heart, so easily 
chilled, has suffered. Write quickly, and do not fear to 
scold me, should you judge that I am wrong. You know 
that whatever comes from your pen will be taken in good 
part. 

" Barras gives assurance, that if "I marry the General, he 
will so contrive as to have him appointed to the command 
of the army of Italy. Yesterday, Bonaparte, speaking of 
this favor, which already excites murmuring among his fel- 
low-soldiers, though it be as yet only a promise, said to me, 
' Think they then I have need of their protection to arrive 
at power ? Egregious mistake ! They will all be but too 
happy- one day should I condescend to grant them mine. 
My sword is by my side, and with it I will go far.' 

" What say you to this security of success ? — is it not a 
proof of confidence, springing from an excess of vanity ? A. 
General of brigade protect the heads of government ! — that, 
truly, is an event highly probable ! I know not how it is, 
but sometimes tliis waywardness gains upon me to such a 
degree, that almost I bcUeve possible whatever this singular 



246 EMPRESS JOSEPHINE. 

man may take it in his head to attempt ; and with his imagi« 
nation, who can calculate what he will not undertake ? 

'' Here we all regret you, and console ourselves for your 
prolonged absence, only by thinking of you every minute, 
and by endeavoring to follow you step by step through the 
beautiful country you are now traversing. Were I sure of 
meeting you in Italy, I would get married to-morrow, upon 
condition of following the General ; but w€ might, perhaps, 
cross each other on the route : thus I deem it more prudent 
to wait for your reply before taking my determination. 
Speed, then, your answer — and your return still more. 

" Madame Tallien gives me in commission to tell you, that 
she loves you tenderly. She is always beautiful and good j 
employing her immense influence only to obtain pardon for 
the unfortunate who address themselves to her ; and adding 
to her acquiescence an air of satisfaction, which gives her 
the appearance of being the person obliged. Her friend 
ship for me is ingenuous and affectionate. I assure you, 
that the love I bear towards her resembles my affection for 
you. This will give you an idea of the attachment I fee. 
for her. Hortense becomes more and more amiable ; her 
charming figure developes itself ; and I should have fitting 
occasion, if so inclined, to make troublesome reflections upon 
villainous Time, which merely adorns one at the expense of 
another ! Happily, I have got quite a difierent crotchet in 
my head at present, and skip all dismals, in order to occupy 
my thoughts solely with a future which promises to be happy 
since we shall soon be re-united, never again to be separated 
Were it not for this marriage, which puts me out, I should, 
despite of all, be quite gay ; but while it remains to be dis- 
posed of, I shall torment myself ; once concluded, come what 
may, I shall be resigned. I am habituated to suffering ; and 
if destined to fresh sorrows, I think I could endure them, pro- 



NAPOLEON'S LETTER TO JOSEPHmE. 217 

Tided my children, my aunt, and you were spared me. We 
have agreed to cut short the conclusions of our letters — fo 
adieu, my friend." 

XXY 

From this truthful and interesting account it will be per- 
ceived, that Josephine brought to her husband as a dower 
*• the magnificent gem," as Napoleon afterwards called it, of 
die command of the army of Italy. Although almost every 
life that has been written either of Josephine or Napoleon, 
has been crowded with the correspondence purporting to 
have passed between them, yet thorough scrutiny has de- 
monstrated most of these letters as they have been publicly 
printed, to be entitled to but feeble claims to authenticity. 
The following, however, is an exact transcript of a letter 
written by Napoleon to Josephine, and copied for a friend 
by her own hand : — 

"My Beloved Feiexd, — My first laurel is due to my 
country ; my second shall be yours. While pressing Al- 
vinzi, I thought of France ; when he was beaten, I thought 
of you. Your son will send you a scarf surrendered to him 
by Colonel Morback, whom he took prisoner with his own 
hand. You see, madam, that our Eugene is worthy of his 
father. Do not deem me altogether undeserving of having 
succeeded to that brave and unfortunate general, under 
whom I should have felt honored to have learned to conquer 
I embrace you. Napoleon." 

XXYI. 

When the victories of Napoleon's first campaign had been 
consummated by the conquest of the Capital of Lombardy, 
.^Dsephine joined her husband, and now constituted the 



248 EMPRESS JOSEPHINE. 

centre of attraction in the brilliant circles that thronged 
the magnificent halls of the Palace of Montibello. Napo- 
leon had left Paris so soon after his marriage, that scarcely 
a day had been devoted at that joyous period to the festivi- 
ties which ought to crown so happy an occasion ; but their 
honeymoon was to be passed in the most beautiful part of 
the world — in the most charming and elegant of all the 
Capitals of Italy, and on the waters and along the shores 
of Lake Como and Lake Maggiore. These classic scenes 
have been embellished by the genius of ages. Como, par- 
ticularly, had so completely won the affections of Pliny that 
he built a beautiful villa on its eastern side, for his summer- 
house. These lakes were visited by Cicero, and consecrated 
by the muse of Yirgil ; and from that period, Avhatever 
there is that is grand and beautiful in the castellated 
architecture of the middle ages, or the historic associations 
of heroic and stirring scenes, has all been lavished to make 
it the gem of the garden of the world. From the bosom of 
Lake Maggiore rises the magic little island called Isola Bella. 
One of the ancient and most opulent of the Lombard families, 
had several centuries ago chosen this spot for their summer 
retreat, and vast treasures had been lavished in the adorn- 
ment of this island with hanging gardens and beautiful 
terraces, with every tree and shrub and flower that could 
be gathered from all quarters of the earth ; and slowly from 
year to year had risen a lofty and magnificent pile, embel 
lished and enriched with countless works of art and taste 
until Isola Bella has become the impersonation throughout 
Europe of splendor and beauty. It was under these blue 
and far-off skies, and on the bosom of these crystal waters, 
surrounded by the wildest Alpine scenery, all bathed in the 
genial and everlasting sunshine of the Italian clime, that 
Josephine with her brilliant train of friends, ladies, cour- 



EUGEXE IN THE ARMY OF ITALY. 249 

tiers, scholars and men of fame, at last found a few weeks 
of repose, enlivened by everything in the form of luxury and 
splendor, which wealth could purchase or fancy invent. 

XXVII. 

There was nothing at this period of Josephine's life want- 
lag to complete her happiness, unless indeed it may have been 
the apprehension she sometimes expressed of the insecurity 
which must attend so sudden and brilliant an elevation, and 
in that period when so many terrific convulsions had been 
witnessed, and when nothing was so dear to the heart as 
repose, it is not strange that Josephine was awed by the 
meteor flight of the young Conqueror of Italy into the very 
empyrean of fame. Her son Eugene, although but seventeen 
years old, had rode by the side of Napoleon as one of his 
aids through the heat of his battles, breathing the air of 
victory. Inheriting, too, as he did, the souvenirs of the 
brilliant achievements of his father, and with the very 
Hannibal of war as his model on the field, Josephine herself 
says, that she even trembled when Eugene came from the 
reviews of the serried battalions of the army of Italy, into 
her presence. He came like the young god of war, all pal- 
pitating from the battle-field. And yet it would be hard to 
believe that so fond a mother as Josephine, one whose happi- 
ness was so entirely dependent upon the blandishments of 
Eocial life, and scenes of domestic affection, should not have 
ooked with some complacency upon the beautiful form and 
radiant face of the future Yiceroy of Italy, as this young 
Achilles came in from the " War of the Greeks." 

XXVIII. 

Many of the books which preserve records of these times, 
and their principal actors, depict in the liveliest manner the 



250 EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 

brilliant scenes tliat were witnessed in the drawing-rooms^ 
in the corteges, the fetes and festivities, which celebrated 
the triumphs of Napoleon and greeted the arrival of Jo- 
sephine in Italy. But none of the accounts we have read do 
any justice to the enthusiasm with which we have often 
heard these same scenes described by many persons still 
living, who participated in them. Society in Italy has for 
ages been graced by every refinement and the cultivation 
of elegant manners ; pure taste and intellectual conversation 
has been studied and cultivated as one of the beautiful 
arts — worthy of the attention and even the ambition of the 
noblest, the most powerful and the most gifted of men. In 
the school of Italian manners, as in their capitals of art 
during its most florid period, the simplicity and the beauty 
of nature were considered the highest of ideal standards. 
Hence the enthusiastic admiration with which Josephine 
was regarded by the polished Italians. The refined grace 
of her manners, the touching simplicity of her conversation 
and address, the affability and grace of every wor.d and 
movement, and that superb repose which can come only 
from unconscious movement, or be reached at last as a 
triumph of art, made her the model of courtly elegance and 
palatial refinement. In Italy perhaps, still more strikingly 
was the significance of Napoleon's remark illustrated when 
he said, that he was more indebted to the beauty, the grace, 
the influence, the virtues and the good sense of Josephine 
for his own elevation to power and success in life, than to 
any other human being. 

XXIX. 

Although on his return from Italy, every brain seemed to 
have grown giddy with Napoleon's conquests, he himself 
acted as though nothing had happened. He again took up 



ACCGIIFASIES XAPOLEON TO TOULON. 251 

his unostentatious abode in the small house in the Rue 
Ghautereine. It was indeed already distinguished ; for, 
before his arrival, the government had, in compliment to 
him, named the street where he had lived before he left, Rue 
le la Yittoire. But that humble dwelling was now fre- 
quented by the most brilliant society of Paris, and Josephine 
lluminated it by her ineffable charms. But the mission of 
Josephine was not only to embellish the career of her lius- 
band — she put forth a high and powerful agency in disarm- 
ing foes, and winning friends for the new dynasty. 

XXX. 

When Napoleon left Paris for the expedition to Egypt, 
Josephine accompanied him to the sea-shore, and remained 
at Toulon until he sailed. It was her earnest desire to 
accompany him on the voyage ; and when he expostulated 
with her on the dangers that would attend this expedition 
in a distant, barbarous and strange country, she seemed to 
have acquired so romantic a confidence in the invincibility 
of his arms, and the glory of his future destiny, that she was 
almost deaf to the voice of reason. Her husband at last 
persuaded her not to encounter the fatigues and perils of 
the expedition, and she yielded to his persuasions only on 
condition that she might be allowed to join him in Egypt 
after she had received news of his successful landing. When 
the vast armament had got under way, and was whitening 
the ocean for many miles with its spotless sails, she watched 
its progress from the balcony of a palace which overlooked 
the sea, and kept her eye steadily fixed on the towering 
cloud of canvas that rose over the dark hull of the Orient 
which bore her husband and her son, until the fading speck 
had grown dim through her tears, and sank in the bosom of 
*he ocean. With a feeling of solitude more lonely than she 



252 EMPRESS JOSEPHINE. 

ever suffered in the days of her obscurity, Josephine left the 

sea-side to visit the mineral waters of Plombieres, where 
her physicians trusted that she might recover completely 
the vital vigor of her youth, now somewhat impaired by the 
cares, excitements and fatigues of her situation. As she 
was sitting one morning at work with her needle, in thi 
new retreat, conversing with several ladies who accompa 
nied her, one of them who had gone to the balcony, called 
them all to look at a very beautiful lap-dog that was passing 
below. They all rushed together with the joyousness of 
youthful hilarity ; the balcony gave way, and they were all 
precipitated below. Josephine was severely hurt — she suf- 
fered a fracture of the thigh-bone from which she did not 
recover for several months. 

XXXI. 

Hortense, who had now reached her fifteenth year, had 
been some time a pupil at the celebrated school of Madame 
Campan. On her return to Plombieres, Josephine sent for 
her daughter to enliven her solitude, and devoted herself 
more earnestly than ever to her education. She remained 
there until her mother, who through the aid of Barras, had 
recovered a portion of her husband's property, when she de- 
termined on purchasing a small estate near Paris, where she 
could live in elegance and comparative seclusiou, and prose- 
cute with new diligence the education of her daughter. I'u 
•the meantime Napoleon had [July 27, 1798,] written froir 
Cairo, intrusting to his brother Joseph a commission t( 
purchase a country-house near the Capital, but the letter fell 
into the hands of the English cruisers, and its contents were 
made known only through the public journals. Josephine, 
however, carried out her plan, and purchased the Villa Mal- 
jiaison — a portion of the national domains — for which she 



PURCHASE OF MALMATSON. 253 

paid with her own money 160,000 francs. She immediately 
began to adorn her new home as far as her means would 
allow, with every comfort and elegance. On Napoleon's 
return, he made it his own favorite retreat ; and from that 
hour the most lavish embellishments, statues, and relics of 
ancient, and gems of modern art, from every part of the 
world, were clustered at Malmaison. The grounds were, 
extended ; and in a few years it became the most elegant 
and sumptuous country villa in all Europe. This place 
which ever after continued to be Josephine's home until her 
death, has mingled in the associations of the Consulate and 
the Empire of her husband, with the darkest and the bright- 
est days of her life, and is never mentioned without recall- 
ing a thousand tender recollections. The destruction of the 
French fleet at Aboukir seemed to detract little from the 
glory of the Egyptian expedition, and the rising fame of 
Bonaparte clustered around Josephine, every person of con- 
sequence and every aspiring man in the Republic. 

XXXII. 

The following description of Malmaison is given by the 
Duchess D'Abrantes : — 

" As Malmaison is now like a lady stripped of all her or- 
naments, and even of her vestments, I shall endeavor to 
recall her to the memory of those who, like me, were of her 
acquaintance while she was still herself. 

" The park was enchanting, notwithstanding its close 
proximity to the barren mountain on the left. The river 
though running far below, imparted strength and luxuri- 
ance to its vegetation ; and nothing could be greener, more 
fresh, or umbrageous, than the field from which it was sepa- 
rated only by a ha-ha, and that part of the park itself which 
is bounded by the road. The extent of the park did not ex- 



254 EMPRESS JOSEPHTXE. 

ceed a hundred acres ; and Bonaparte, on liis return from 
Egypt, endeavored to persuade Mademoiselle Julien, a ricli 
old maid of tlie village of Ruelle, as an act of good neigh- 
horliood, to sell him, at her own price, an adjoining garden 
or small park, by which addition Malmaison would have 
been placed on so respectable a footing, that he need no 
longer have blushed to compare it with the magnificent es- 
tate of his brother Joseph. The First Consul had a small 
private garden, separated only by a bridge from his private 
cabinet. It was here that he took the air, when labor ren- 
dered moderate exercise necessary to him ; for at that time, 
and for two years succeeding, he allowed himself no repose 
but what nature imperatively required. The bridge was 
covered in and arranged like a little tent ; here his table 
was carried, and he would employ himself with state papers, 
saying, that he felt his ideas become more elevated and ex- 
pansive in the air, than when seated beside a stove and shut 
out from communication with the sky. 

" Yet he could not endure the smallest degree of cold ; 
had fires lighted in July, and wondered that others did not 
sutfer like himself, from the first breath of a north wind. 

"Our life at Malmaison, at the time of my marriage, re- 
sembled that usually led when much company is assembled 
together at a chateau in the country. Our apartments con- 
sisted of a chamber, a boudoir, and a room for the chamber- 
maid, all very simply furnished. That- occupied by Ma 
demoiselle Hortense differed from the others only by a fold 
ing-door ; and this apartment was not assigned her till 
after her marriage. All opened on a long and very narrow 
paved corridor, looking to the court. 

" We chose our own hour of rising ; and till breakfast pur 
time was at our own disposal. At eleven, the ladies all met 
for breakfast, in a small low saloon of the right wing, oper. 



DESCRTPTIO^- OF MALMAISON. 255 

ing to the court ; but, as in Paris, gentlemen were never ad- 
mitted to the party, unless, occasionally, Joseph, Louis, or 
one of the family. Breakfast was followed by conversation, 
or the reading of the journals ; and some one always ar- 
rived from Paris to have a7i audience ; for already Madame 
Bonaparte gave audiences, contrary to the express orders of 
the First Consul ; and patronized petitions, though his anger 
at her interference had already caused her abundance of 
tears ; but when a beautiful pearl necklace or bracelet of 
rubies was offered, through the hands of Bourrienne, or of 
any other friend, the elegance of a present so wholly uncon- 
nected with the matters in hand, suppressed all curious 
speculations into the nature of the mine which produced it. 
" The First Consul was never visible till dinner-time. At 
five or six in the morning he descended to his cabinet, and 
was there occupied with Bourrienne, or with the ministers, 
generals, and counselors of state, till the dinner -hour of six, 
when the party was generally joined by some invited guests. 
All the suite of the First Consul were at this time enlarging 
his household by marriage." 

XXXIII. 

Malmaison was at this time really the Court of France, 
and it is delightful to see how beneficent was the influence 
Josephine now put forth upon the destinies of her country, 
and in relieving those who had suffered in the storms of the 
revolution, or whose fortunes had been laid waste by the in- 
justice and cruelty of the Reign of Terror. The ascendency 
of Josephine in the society of Paris, and the important po- 
litical position she was taking, with the influence she Avas 
known to sway over the mind of her husband, aroused the 
envy of nearly all his female relatives, and a malignant 
scheme of mischief was invented, which was intended to 



256 EMPRESS JOSEPHINE. 

estrange Napoleon's heart from Ms wife, and bring about a 
divorce between them. Letters were written to the Con- 
queror in Egypt, to consummate the plan, but for a consid- 
erable time they had no influence over his mind. An Italian 
commentator on Shakspeare, however, well says, that " No 
man is great enough not to be an Othello, if he has an lago 
at his elbow." By every arrival from France, Napoleon re- 
ceived new confirmations of the scandalous reports that 
were being spread in regard to the conduct of Josephine, 
till at last his great mind embraced the delusion, and in the 
lieat of jealousy he wrote some of the bitterest and most 
cruel letters that were ever sent to a confiding and virtuous 
wife. She could not herself divine the cause of this strange 
infatuation of her husband ; for, during the first months after 
his arrival in Egypt, his correspondence had breathed more 
the romance of a lover than the style of a husband. Reso- 
lute and brave in the consciousness of her own innocence, 
she repelled these attacks upon her honor, in a series of let- 
ters, which, if we could find place for them, would-be re- 
garded as models of their kind, showing how deep the 
poisoned arrow of slander can pierce the bosom of innocence. 

XXXIV. 

In one, she says — " Can it be possible ? Is the letter I 
have just received indeed yours ? I can hardly believe it, 
lying as it does open before me, by the &ide of those which 
had preceded it, and to which your love imparted so ineffa- 
ble a charm. My eyes cannot doubt, however, that these 
pages which rend my heart, are too surely yours. But my 
soul refuses to admit that your heart ever dictated these 
lines, which to the transport of again hearing from you have 
oppressed me with the mortal grief I feel, in reading your 
displeasure, which afflicts me the more, because the doing of 



LETTER TO HER HUSBAND. 257 

it must have caused yourself so much pain. I am utterly 
ignorant what I have done to create an enemy so resolute to 
destroy my repose by ruining your peace. 

" When I first knew you, still buried in the sorrow that 
had overwhelmed me, I did not believe I could ever again 
feel a sentiment approaching to love. The scenes of blood 
I had witnessed, and whose victim I had been, pursued me 
everywhere. Little did I imagine, I could for an instant fix 
your choice. Like all the world, I admired your genius and 
talents : more infallibly than all others did I foresee your 
approaching glory : but I was unmoved — I loved you only 
for the services you had rendered my country. You should 
have left me to cherish this admiration, without seeking to 
render it a passion, by resorting to those means which you, 
above all men, possess, if so soon after uniting your destiny 
to mine, you regret the happiness you alone taught me to 
enjoy. 

" Can you believe it is possible for me ever to forget your 
care or your love — to be indifferent about one who sweetens 
life by all that is transporting in passion? — That I can ever 
efface from my memory your kindness to Hortense — your 
example and your counsel to Eugene ? Oh, my friend ! why 
not, instead of lending your ear to imposters, rather reduce 
them to silence by the recital of your benefits to a woman 
whose character has never incurred the stain of ingratitude ? 
They know that I loved you first because I was a mother. 
Since then, admired as you have become throughout Europe, 
1 have but felt the deeper adoration for the husband who 
made me his choice, when I was so poor and unhappy. 
Every step you take only gives new splendor to the name I 
bear, and is this the moment they have seized to persuade 
you that I love you no longer ? 

" To console me as far as she can, Hortense employs all 



258 EMPRESS JOSEPHINE. 

her little arts, to conceal all fears on your account and her 
brother's, and to dissipate that sadness — to you so dubious — 
T^hich never leaves me. By the charm of her conversation, 
she contrives to call up a smile, and then, in her joy she ex- 
claims, ' Dear Mamma, they shall not know that in Cairo. 
In the graces of her person, Hortense improves daily ; she 
dresses with taste, and certainly, without being nearly so 
beautiful as your sisters, she could hardly f^il to please even 
when they were present. As for me, I beguile the time in 
writing to you, listening to your praises, or reading the 
journals, where I see your name on every page." 

" God knows when or where this letter will reach you ; 
and may it restore to you the repose you never should have 
lost, and give you an assurance that while I live you will be 
dear to me as on the day of our last separation. Farewell, 
my only Friend ! Confide in me, love me, and receive a 
thousand tender caresses !" 

XXXY. 

But this touching letter did not reach Napoleon till after 
his return to France. In the meantime, Josephine, when 
she could escape from the brilliant but tiresome throng of 
her salons, fled to her beautiful gardens to brood over her 
misfortunes, and long for the return of her husband. All 
communication between the French in Egypt and their 
country was broken off, and for many months no tidings was 
heard of the army, or its Commander. Finally, on the 9th 
of November, [1799], during the height of festivities, in a 
numerous and brilliant assembly at the house of the Presi 
dent of the Directory, a messenger entered with a tele- 
graphic communication, announcing that Bonaparte had 
that morning landed at Fregus. Intriguers had even circu- 
lated the story of his death, and a score of ambitious aspi 



HER JOURXEY TO MEET NAPOLEON, 259 

rants were coolly calculating their chances for supremacy 
in the French nation. Josephine withdrew, overwhelmed 
with agitation, and resolved to set out that very night on a 
journey to the sea-coast, to meet her husband on his way to 
Paris. Accompanied by Louis Bonaparte and her daughter 
Hortense, she entered her carriage, and pressed on by post- 
horses with the utmost speed. Without stopping a moment 
for repose, and scarcely alighting from her carriage, she 
impatiently urged the postillions on, till they had left hun- 
dreds of miles behind them, and she came up to the Hotel de 
Ville, in Lyons. But Napoleon had already several days 
before, started for Paris by another route ; and when Jo- 
sephine learned the sad intelligence, she apprehended the 
worst consequences, and fell senseless to the ground. The 
moment she recovered, she again ordered the carriage, and, 
without refreshment or repose, began to retrace her steps. 
The imagination may conceive how exquisite was her suf- 
fering, and how tantalizing the delay must have been. " It 
seemed as though we never should get there,'' said Josephine, 
and yet the axles of the wheels were several times on fire 
from the speed of the horses — changing so often at the 
relays, that over each post they fled at the top of their 
speed. 

XXXYI. 

About midnight, on the 18th, Josephine alighted at the 
house in the Rue de la Yictoire. Those apartments, where 
they had been so happy in their mutual confidence, had now 
for several days resounded with Napoleon's threat of di- 
vorce — " open and public divorce." In the midst of one of 
his transports of rage, an old friend who was the lago of 
the plot, said to him — " She will appear, and everything will 
be explained. You will forgive everything, and recover 
your trr.nquillity." 



260 EMPRESS JOSEPHINE. 

'• I forgive ? Never ! Do you know who I am ? If I 
was not sure of my resolution I would tear my heart out of 

my bosom, and cast it into the fire." 

XXXVII. 

Eugene, who had been Napoleon's constant companion, 
rushed to the court-yard as the carriage drove in, and held 
his mother [who had been eighteen months separated from 
him,] once more on his bosom. The trembling Josephine, 
sustained by her son and daughter, mounted the stairs to 
the little family-room where Napoleon was sitting with Jo- 
seph. He turned a repulsive and freezing look on the 
group, and said — " Madame, it is my wish that you retire 
immediately to Malmaison." The brave and generous Eu- 
gene caught his falling mother in his arms, and drew her 
silently from the apartment. Shortly after, their steps were 
heard as they descended to leave the house at midnight. 
Napoleon, whose ear at that moment vibrated to every sound, 
started from his chair, strode violently round the -room 
and thought — for he could not have forgotten — that for 
nearly a week Josephine had lived in her carriage, and 
now the confiding, loving, and prostrate wife was being 
driven in darkness and gloom from her home. He opened 
the door and, calling to Eugene, told him he had better re- 
turn for the night. He had not the magnanimity to mention 
the name of his wife ; but Eugene understood him. The sad 
group again returned to the dwelling, and Josephine threw 
herself on her bed, and wept herself to sleep. 

XXXVIIT. 

For two days no intercourse took place between the en- 
raged husba^id and the ofiended wife. On the third day, he 
entered the apartment where Josephine and Hortense were 



THE RECONCILIATION. 2G1 

sitting — tlie forraer at her toilette table, wetting witli her 
tears tlie passionate letters of love Napoleon had sent to her 
during the first months of his sojourn in Egypt ; while Hor- 
tense was leaning pensively by the open window, half hid 
by the drapery. After a moment's hesitation, he approached 
his wife, and in a low voice uttered the name, "Josephine !" 
She started, and seeing who it was, cast a look of despairing 
but earnest love upon the soldier, and smiling through her 
tears, answered, " My Friend !" — the only epithet she ever 
gave Napoleon. His better nature had asserted its right to 
control his affections, and he had already pierced the flimsy 
gauze of that infernal web of lies that had been woven 
around him. He first extended his hand — she seized it, and 
bent before him. " To my bosom," he said ; and they 
blended their convulsive joy and sorrow together. From 
that moment Napoleon ceased to suspect his wife, and loved 
her as he never had, and never did another woman till the 
last day of his life. A month after his return from Egypt, 
those events had occurred which we have already recorded, 
that ended in his seizing the Government — scattering the 
corrupt and factious legislative assemblies, and annihilating 
the tyranny of a cowardly and corrupt Directory. 

XXXIX. 

The 18th Brumaire was a day of hazard and exposure to 
Napoleon, and to any other man who had calculated the 
chances, must have seemed to have abounded in the most 
terrible risks. But still he found time during the day, to 
write several notes, and dispatched several messengers to 
Josephine, keeping her informed from hour to hour of the 
progress of events ; and at night he brought with him to her 
apartment the latest news of the struggle. But it was 
apprehended that the sternest part of the contest would 



262 EMPEESS JOSEPHIXE. 

follow on the coming day ; and when they parted in the 
morning, Josephine was filled with the most painful appre- 
hensions. Hour after hour she was looking from the win- 
dows for the arrival of the messengers, but none came. She 
started at the sound of every horse's foot on the pavement, 
and the roll of every carriage through the streets — but no 
tidings came ; and at last she threw herself at midnight in 
tears upon her bed. Towards daybreak, kowever, the First 
Consul entered her apartments, and Josephine rushed to his 
embrace. He briefly related to her the occurrences of the 
day, and then saying, as he laid down for a half hour's 
sleep on a sofa, " Good-Night, Josephine ! To-morrow you 
shall sleep in the Palace of the Luxembourg." 

'' Who has been killed ?" responded Josephine. 

Napoleon, who was already half asleep, simply replied, 
" Nobody, but myself." 

XL. 

Napoleon redeemed his pledge ; and, the next night, Jo- 
sephine, after receiving the congratulations of Paris, slept in 
the Luxembourg. Two months later, the First Consul made 
another step in his progress to the imperial dignity, by 
taking possession of the Royal Palace of the Tuilleries. The 
occasion was distinguished by one of those brilliant fetes 
with which the gay and elegant Parisians mark the occur- 
rences which concern the fortunes of their nation, or add 
eclat to popular movements. The suite of apartments appro- 
priated to Josephine were those which had been usually 
inhabited by the queens of France — the two large salom 
fronting the gardens. From this moment, the nightly recep- 
tions assumed all the dignity and splendor which made the 
old noblesse so proud of the Court of St. Cloud. Twelve 
Foreign Ambassadors then resided at the Consular Court 



THE CONSULATE — FIRST RECEPTION. 263 

and all the most brilliant characters of France, :Qoved in 
those scenes of gorgeous splendor. 

XLI. 

" At the first public reception," says Dr. Memes, (the only 
authentic historian, hitherto, of the life of Josephine), " Ma- 
dame Bonaparte was announced, and entered, supported 
by M. de Talleyrand, then Minister for Foreign Affairs. In 
a scene where diamond and star, cordon and plume, in more 
than usual profusion, thus caught radiance and shade, from 
lights that shone ' o'er fair women and brave men,' expect- 
ancy must have been high, on the first appearance of her who 
was to fill the prime station. A momentary feeling of disap- 
pointment might have crossed for an instant, those minds 
who had looked for magnificence and state. Josephine was 
attired in the utmost simplicity ; her hair without decora- 
tion of any kind, and merely retained by a plain comb 
d/ecaiUe, fell in tresses upon her neck in the most becoming 
negligence — a collar of pearls, an unobtrusive ornament, 
but of great value, harmonized with, and completed this un- 
pretending costume. We have the evidence of an eye-wit- 
ness, that a spontaneous murmur followed Josephine's en- 
trance ; such being the grace and dignity of her deportment, 
that with all this absence of the external attributes of rank, 
a stranger Avould at once have fixed upon the principal per- 
sonage in the splendid circle. Always accompanied as she 
had entered, Madame Bonaparte made the tour of the apart- 
ments, the members of the Foreign Diplomacy being intro- 
duced first, in succession, by the Minister. When the intro- 
ductions had nearly concluded, the First Consul entered with- 
out being announced, dressed in a plain Chasseur uniform, 
with a sash of tri-colored silk. In this simplicity, both good 
taste and sound policy concurred. The occasion was not a 



264 EMPRESS JOSEPHIXE. 

levee — the First Magistrate and Ms wife merely received 
the congratulations of their fellow-citizens of a free Repub- 
lic. At this period, Josephine had completed by some 
months, the thirty-sixth year of her age, and she might have 
passed for even younger than this. At a time of life, when, 
as respects the charms of mind and conversation, woman is 
most fascinating, she still enjoyed those personal advantages 
which are thought to belong exclusively to more youthful 
years. The surpassing taste displayed in the mysteries of 
her toilet, were doubtless not without their influence in pro- 
longing the empire of beauty ; but nature had been origin- 
ally bountiful in no common degree. Josephine was rather 
above than below the medium size, hers being exactly that 
perfection of stature which is neither too tall for the ele- 
gance of feminine proportion, nor yet so diminutive as to 
detract from dignity. Her person, in its individual forms, 
exhibited faultless symmetry, and the whole frame, animated 
by lightness and elasticity of mind, seemed like something 
serial in its perfectly graceful carriage. Her features were 
small and finely modeled, the curves tending rather to full- 
ness, and the profile inclining to Grecian, but without any 
statue-like coldness of outline." 



XLII. 

But Josephine was as much delighted to escape from the 
severe dignity of the Tuilleries to the quiet seclusion of M'al- 
maison^ as her husband was to fly from fawning battalions 
of flattering place-seekers, to the quiet conversations and 
uninterrupted studies and investigations of their charming 
country villa. About this time, Josephine suffered continual 
alarm from the repeated attempts which were made to as- 
sassinate her husband. Even the road from Paris to Mal- 
maison — a wild district leading through the quarries of Nan-' 



JOSEPHINE AT MALMAISON. 265 

terre — was infested with assassins hired by the Bourbons 
and their allies to kill the First Consul. Josephine never 
passed over it without dispatching a body of men before- 
hand, to clear the way. The explosion of the infernal ma- 
chine, which slightly wounded Josephine, and made her ner- 
vously apprehensive of other conspiracies, together with the 
openness of the outrage, decided Napoleon on doing some- 
thing which should strike terror through the hearts of his 
enemies. He seized the Duke d'Enghien, and had him killed 
in a ditch in the Castle of Yincennes. Josephine put fortn 
the most heroic exertions to save his life, and in his fate, 
considered as an individual, there was much to lament ; but 
it fortunately put an end to all schemes for the assassination 
of the Chief Ruler of France, and ever after Josephine was 
undisturbed by those painful apprehensions which gave her 
so many unhappy hours. In the spring of 1800, Napoleon 
left Malmaison for the second campaign in Italy, and in less 
than two months had won these astounding victories ; and 
again on the 2d of July was greeted by Josephine and all 
Paris in the halls of the Tuilleries. She had passed most of 
the interval in planning and executing new and picturesque 
effects in the extended and magical grounds of Malmaison ; 
and as every day gave the last finish to some new touch or 
vista of beauty, she exclaimed, with a radiant face, " This, 
too, shall welcome my Cid — when Achilles comes home from 
the wars." Within these grounds were preserved rare and 
curious beasts, birds and monsters, that either Napoleon pro- 
cured during his conquests, or that were sent to him in 
homage of his genius, by foreign princes. Dr. Memes says, 
that one of Josephine's favorite amusements was playing 
billiards in the evening. " This beautiful game she played 
with greater grace than skill, though more than a match for 
Napoleon." 



i:66 EMPRESS JOSEPHINE. 

XLIII. 

Tlie Hero of Marengo returned to Paris with nt ,v laurels 
on liis bro\y, and Josephine was prouder and happier than 
ever. Dr. Memes has made so picturesque a drawing of 
their every-day life at this time, that we cannot forego the 
temptation of another extract : — 

" The domestic felicity of the First Consul when at Mal- 
maison seemed to be complete. He had around him only 
attached relatives or the most devoted servants, and his 
amusements were of the simplest kind. Bourrienne has 
described their family theatricals — a relaxation which was 
at once conducted with the greatest decorum, and a source 
of much innocent enjoyment both to Bonaparte and to 
Josephine. Proud of the talents of her children, and grati- 
fied by their power to contribute to his entertainment for 
whose happiness she wished only to live, among the distin- 
guished performers in the Malmaison company, she had the 
satisfaction to see Eugene, Hortense, and her two favorite 
proteges, the sisters Auguie, the elder of whom afterward 
became the wife of Marshal Ney. Another amusement 
may be described as still more peculiarly characteristic. 
This was the game of 'prisoners,^ so well known among 
schoolboys, when two parties run against each other, seizing 
as captives such of their unfortunate opponents as happen 
to be caught within certain limits round the respective 
stations. The members of the ordinary circle at Malmaison 
were all young, active, and every one inclined to enjoy life 
sans f agon, while their Chief probable delighted in a sport 
which in some measure brought back an image of the grand 
game of war. Usually after dinner the party was arranged. 
Bonaparte and Josephine, Eugene, Hortense, Caroline Bona- 
parte, Rapp, Lauriston, Duroc, Isabey, with Bourrienne, and 
a few other confidential retainers, divided into two camps, 



MARRIAGE OF HORTENSE WITH LOUIS. 207 

as they were termed ; and, when nothing pressed, the sport 
often continued for hours. The best runners were Eugene 
and his sister ; but Bonaparte, in the selection of parti- 
sans, always chose Josephine, never suffering her to be in 
any camp but his own. When by chance she happened to 
be taken prisoner, he always seemed uneasy till she waa 
released, making all exertions for that purpose, though a 
bad runner himself, often coming down in mid career with a, 
heavy fall on the grass. Up again, however, he started, bat 
usually so convulsed with laughter that he could not possibly 
move, and the affair generally ended in his captivity. When 
placed in durance, or when Josephine had been taken, he 
kept constantly calling out to his party, ' A rescue ! a res- 
cue !' clapping his hands, shouting to encourage the runners, 
and, in short, exhibiting all the ardor of a boy at play. 
When we find the Conqueror at Marengo, the restorer of 
France, thus yielding to the kindly promptings of harmless 
mirth in the bosom of his family, we almost forget his 
real character." 

XLIY. 

Pew mothers ever doted so fondly on a child as did 
Josephine on Hortense — few mothers have had so brilliant 
a child to dote on ; and no mother could have devoted her- 
self with more untiring energy and persuasive affection 
than she did to her education. In her brief biography 
we can more appropriately speak on this point. The mai- 
riage of Hortense with Napoleon's brother Louis, which 
ended so unfortuuately, Josephine was mainly instrumental 
in promoting ; and, if it does not sound too harshly, we 
will say that the glitter of the Coronet of Holland she was 
thereby to win, blinded the eyes of her mother to the inevi- 
table fruits of a union where there was no affection on either 



■ 268 ' EMPRESS JOSEPHINE. 

pide. But the nuptials took place witli the most imposiiic^ 
and brilliant ceremonies, and until their final separation 
Josephine endeavored to inspire her daughter with kindlier 
and more gentle sentiments toward her husband than she 
herself was disposed to entertain. But this whole matter 
will be treated more in detail in another place. 

XLY. 

During every interval of Napoleon's campaigns, he was in 
the habit of visiting the French Provinces, and he was also 
anxious that his wife should attend him. She was beloved 
by all the French people, whatever may have been their 
political prejudices or passions. And so, wherever the Con- 
sular or Imperial coi'tege passed, she was greeted by pro- 
longed and heartfelt welcomes. On one occasion, an anti- 
quated personage whose toilet bespoke the dilapidations o** 
time, was presented. He was ushered into the Cabinet of 
Napoleon, where Josephine happened at that time to be 
sitting. Embarrassed by the fame of the man befare whom 
he stood, he could not at once make known the object of his 
visit. With the kind aid of Josephine, he at last made out 
to communicate the intelligence, that he was the Professor at 
Brienne, who had many years before enjoyed the signal 
honor of teaching Napoleon to write. " And a nice pen- 
man you made of me," said the First Consul ; and turning to 
his wife, continued — " Ask that lady." ~The poor pedagbgu 
was in great distress ; but she replied, that her husband' 
letters were the most beautiful ever written ; and the whol 
thing ended by a stroke of penmanship which made th 
pedagogue rich for life. Could some magic wand wave 
over the living and the dead, who owe a debt of gratitude 
to the kind intervention of Josephine, it would summor, up 
an army as numerous as that which gained the battic of 



FOX WITH NAPOLEON. 269 

Marengo. We believe, we have elseAvhere forgotten to say, 
that Napoleon was a miserable writer. He even spelled 
badly, and in consequence of a habit of thrusting his pen 
into the inkstand at every word, his letters were so blot- 
ted that a lady of honor who was somewhat short-sighted, 
once remarked, when she had looked upon some of Napo- 
leon's epistles which the Empress was reading-, and was 
informed that they had been written by Napoleon, exclaimed, 
that she had always supposed they were sketches and maps 
of his battles ! Probably this innocent individual might 
have alleged in her own defence, that so much of Josephine's 
time was spent in deciphering these epistles, she had very 
naturally come to the conclusion she was studying geogra- 
phy. 

XLYI. 

When the peace of Amiens was ratified, thousands of the 
upper classes of England rushed across the channel to gaze 
upon the charred ruins of monarchy, out of which was 
rising the imposing form of a Great Republic. Although 
the British journals had succeeded in making most of their 
readers believe that " the French were only a nation of 
monkeys, until they got a taste of blood, when they become 
tigers," it is said, that of the multitudes who proved the 
courtesies of the Parisians, and the affable and hospitable 
graces of Josephine's salons, their letters sent home, were a. 
chorus of praise. Among others, Mr. Charles James Fox, 
the great English statesman, received especial tokens of 
respect from the French Consul and his wife. Soon after 
he reached Paris, he attended a dejeune at Madame Reca- 
mier's, who had the reputation of being not only one of the 
most beautiful of women, but perhaps the most accomplished 
talker in France. In that morning-circle, were the Duchess 
of Gordon with her daughter — afterwards the Duchess of 



270 EMPRESS JOSEPHINE. 

Bedford — Lord Erskine and the British ambassador, with 
many others. Before the dejeune was over, the clatter of 
horse's feet was heard in the court-yard, and shortly after 
Eugene Beauharnais was announced. After a warm recep 
tion by Madame Recamier and a presentation to Mr. Fox, 
he said to the statesman, " I hope, sir, soon to be in some 
measure indemnified for the loss of your company this morn- 
ing, [by being so late], for I am commissioned by Madame, 
my mother, to attend you to the Chateau of Malmaison, and 
I have preceded only a few minutes the carriages destined 
for you and your friends as soon as you can resolve on 
leaving so many charms as must detain you here. It wili 
give me infinite pleasure to act as your guide on the road." 
The party soon adjourned to the drawing-room, where the 
great Talma recited some passages from Othello and Mac 
beth in a good translation — if that be possible from Shaks- 
peare — in French — when the party entered the carriages, 
and drove off on the road to Malmaison. 

XLYII. 

\ Josephine had only to be natural, to delight the world ; 
but when she received Mr. Fox — almost the onl}^ man in the 
world Napoleon cared to court — a slight embarrassment 
seemed to mark her manner, for she knew that the fortunes 
of empires might vibrate with every step. If anything could 
add a new charm to her manner, it was this involuntary 
flattery of the genius of the British statesman. The whole 
entertainment was characterized by a degree of simplicity 
which constituted, perhaps, the most perfect and happy com- 
promise that ever was witnessed between English formality 
and hauteur, and French frivolity and evanescence. . Of 
course Napoleon was at the dinner-table, and for the first 
time these two great men conversed together. After the 



FOX'S IMPRESSIONS OF MALMAIfeON. 2Y1 

tTinner, came the gardens, and then the parks, and then an 
evening, bristling with wit and blushing with beauty. 
When Fox left, he said to the Dutchess of Gordon — "I 
have been enchanted with the elegance and grace of every- 
thing I have seen and heard." When Fox drove off, Napo- 
leon, in a style characteristic of himself, said, as he fixed his 
eye upon the ground for half a minute—" Fox is a great 
man." 

XLVIII. 

Napoleon's appointment as Consul for Life, with the power 
of naming his successor, would have given more force to the 
arguments which many of his friends brought forward in 
favor of a divorce, had not a son been born, at this period, 
to Louis and Hor tense, who, in the event of Napoleon and 
Josephine never having any children, might be designated 
as his heir. It is certain, however, that the solicitude of his 
wife, when it had been once awakened, was never to be fully 
allayed again, and possibly this might have had some influence 
with her, in her endeavors to persuade her husband to aban- 
don all ideas of a throne, and content himself with the honor, 
the power, and the fame of the First Consul. It appears 
also, that she used whatever influence she possessed with her 
husband, in favor of the restoration of the Bourbons. She 
succeeded in procuring for them many favors, in mitigating 
the severity of many decisions of the tribunals, in restoring 
to them confiscated estates, and thereby laid a claim to their 
lasting gratitude. But the recipients of these favors re- 
garded them only as partial concessions of what they were 
entitled to, by the laws and usages of ages ; and it subse- 
quently appeared that the most malignant and unscrupu- 
lous of all the foes of Napoleon, Josephine, and their house, 
turned out to be those same families which were indebted 
to them for their lives and fortunes. 



272 EMPRESS JOSEPHINE. 

XLIX. 

However gratifying tlie Proclamation of the Empire may 
Lave been to Napoleon, it is certain that this great act was 
done with the hearty concurrence of the French people. 
There was a universal desire in France, that a new and more 
powerful throne should be erected ; and a vast majority of 
the inhabitants felt that upon this throne should be seated 
the man who had spread such glory over the French nation. 
Ages of oppression and corruption had slowly been pre- 
paring the way for the Great Revolution of 1789, and that 
Revolution was rather a revulsion of the national feeling 
against the Bourbon dynasty, than a conversion of the peo- 
ple to a republican faith. Republicanism, as we understand 
the term, with its simple forms, and secured constitutional 
guaranties which distinguish the Republic of the United 
States, could not at that time subsist in France. Such a 
Republic the last four years have equally shown to be impos- 
sible there, and France is now in very much such a state, 
with one of the Bonaparte race at the head of the nation, as 
she was in 1803, just before the proclamation of the Empire. 

L. 

It may seem somewhat strange, but we doubt not it is 
true, that Josephine not only had no desire to wear an 
imperial crown, but she even contemplated her coronation 
with the most painful apprehensions. "~ In an affectionate 
and touching letter, written about this time to her husband, 
she does not disguise her sorrow and apprehension, in view 
of the approaching Proclamation of the Empire. " You 
have alarmed me," she says, " by your ambitious flight : Re- 
store my confidence by your return to moderation." With 
almost prophetic glance, she pierced the future, and foresaw 
the difficulties and dangers which would attend an attempt 



NAPOLEONS S POLICY OF CONSOLIDATION. 273 

to establish a new dynasty in the midst of the old ones of 
Europe. Her letter still serves as a picture almost as 
graphic and truthful as history itself, of the consequences 
of the great act Napoleon was contemplating. But he 
endeavored to calm the apprehensions of his wife, and 
with the degree of confidence she then entertained of his 
ability to achieve everything he undertook, he succeeded 
so far, that Josephine went calmly through the grand cere- 
mony of the coronation, which took place on the 18th of 
May, 1804. The occasion was marked by a succession of 
the most brilliant fetes that had probably ever been wit- 
nessed in Europe. There seemed to be but one heart in 
France, and that was beating with exultation at the glory 
of the Empire, and breathing forth aspirations for the future 
welfare of the new dynasty. 

LI. 

Most writers have been disposed to regard Napoleon's 
anxiety to conciliate the ancienne noblesse, to the wish of Jo- 
sephine, who seemed anxious that they should be restored as 
far as possible to their ancient splendor. Others have attri- 
buted this desire of Napoleon rather to the promptings of 
his own ambition, and the gratification of his pride, in 
having his new throne surrounded by the satellites that 
shone around the throne of Louis. But it is more probable 
that all these, with many other motives, dictated this 
policy. That Napoleon was anxious to consolidate his 
dynasty on the throne of France, was apparent to all. That 
from the proclamation of the Empire, it became the great 
object of his life to achieve it, there is no doubt. From the* 
first moment, too, that he had taken the reins of power into 
his own hands as a civil ruler, he had put forth every exer- 
tion to allay the spirit of disaftection and unite all classes 



274 EilPRESS JOSEPHINE. 

of Frenchmen in the great work of advancing the glorv and 
power of the nation. We cannot, however, but regard his 
a-tteniDt to restore the ancienne noblesse to their dignity and 
honors, as a capital mistake. Every effort that he made to 
attach them to his Court, and win them over to his side, 
only weakened his position, and hastened his overthrow. 
The French Revolution was a solemn and fearful, but an 
earnest and bloody proclamation of the divorce of the 
future from the past ; and the Coronation of Napoleon him- 
self, only affixed the most solemn seal to this deliberate act 
of the French Nation. With the past, which was blotted 
out, fell the Bourbon throne ; and with it went down for- 
ever the ancienne noblesse. The Revolution had done away 
with the Feudal System, but that system still lingered in 
hope, until Napoleon assumed the civil power — when he 
barred it out of France forever. The ancient distinctions 
of caste, which had for ages been intrenched in France, he 
swept away. A great many people, of more fancy than 
judgment, have dwelt with delight on the Feudal System, 
particularly in France, where it existed in its most splendid 
and imposing form. It crushed the people into the earth, 
and they had no appeal from the oppression they suffered. 
Napoleon established complete civil equality in several most 
important particulars, and all the distinctions of the Empire 
were thrown open to every man. 

When, therefore, he — an Emperor — ^an Emperor of 'the 
People, and the Founder of a Dynasty of the People — at- 
tempted to restore the ancienne noblesse, he attempted an im 
possibility. It was an act of the greatest political incon 
sistency, at war with the whole policy, and hostile to the 
very existence of his Empire. Every member of the ancient 
aristocracy he admitted to hip conrt — particularly Ladies 
of Honor, wuo surrounded Josephine — hated, and in their 



THE OLD, AXD THE XE\Y ARISTOCRACY. 275 

very liparts despised tins musliroom noblesse. However obse- 
quious they may have shown themselves in the presence of 
the imperial pair, they loathed their position, and endured 
it only for the facilities it gave them to intrigue for the 
ultimate restoration of the Bourbons, or the pay they got 
for the service. 

LII. 

We might extend these observations, and show how gross 
were the improprieties of conduct which many of these 
ladies of the ancienne noblesse were guilty of ; but Josephine 
gives a clue to it all, in a single remark — " How infinitely 
better satisfied I am with the dignified reserve of Madame de 
Montmorency, than with the eagerness of others, who, while 
they adulate me here in the Tuilleries, with the grossest 
flatteries, are always ready to talk of Madame Bonaparte, in 
certain salons of the Fauxbourg St. Germaine." A little 
incident related of Napoleon, shows how well he understood 
this state of things. Entering one morning the drawing- 
room of the Empress, where she was surrounded by the 
ladies of her Court, he held up a superb diamond aigrette of 
great value, he had just received as a present from the Sul- 
tan. There was a general exclamation of admiration and 
delight — each one declaring that it was the most beautiful 
bijou she had ever seen. On this occasion, as on all others, 
the Baroness de Montmorency preserved that true dignity 
which had always characterized her manners at this new 
Court. The Emperor, who through life, admired independ- 
ent and straight-forward conduct, took the costly aigrette, 
and broke it in two, and handing one half to the Empress, 
turned to Madame de Montmorency, saying, "Permit me, 
Madame, to request your acceptance of this small token of 
my esteem." Napoleon despised the sycophancy of these 



276 EMPRESS JOSEPIIIXE. 

members of the ancient nobility gathered around his Court, 
for he knew that while they fawned, they would have 
stabbed him, had they dared. 

LIII. 

The Emperor exposed himself to a great deal of satire 
and ridicule, by the anxiety he displayed on all occasions, 
to restore the etiquette of the Bourbon Court. He even 
interested himself in the study of its details, with as much 
intensity as he had ever investigated a mathematical pro* 
blem, and was much incensed if he observed the slightest de- 
parture from the etiquette of the Imperial Court. Huge 
folios were compiled, to serve as " Manuals of Etiquette'^ 
and " Guides of Court ;" and the highest authorities inform 
us that the most talented and brilliant women of France 
passed hours every day in the study of their mortal pages. 
One historian says : — " The number of steps was counted — 
the positions of the arms, and the curve of salutation, were 
described with the same rigorous precision as the 'military 
exercises of the raw conscript." The acquisition of these 
arbitrary accomplishments, was, however, a far more serious 
thing in the provincial cities where the Imperial Court was 
always opened in fall etiquette, wherever the Emperor and 
the Empress were passing in their progress on tours of 
pleasure. 

On a certain occasion, when the Court was to pass a few 
days in one of the cities on the frontier of the Rhine, all the 
circles of fashion were thrown into a fever of excitement at 
the approaching presentations. " One of the ladies to be 
presented, wrote to a friend of hers at Paris, for instruc- 
tion," says Doctor Memes, " and received the following : — 
' You make three courtesies — one on entering the saloon, one 
in the middle, and a third, a few paces further on, en 



ETIQUETTE OF THE IMPERlAl COURT, 277 

pirouette.^ This last phrase proyed a complete mystery, and 
nad nearly turned all respectable heads in Cologne — the 
scene of expected operations. A consultation was called, 
the letter communicated, and deep deliberation ensued. 
Many of the ladies were old — en pirouette ! — very difficult ; 
Bome of German blood, were tall — en pirouette ! — very awk- 
Avard ; some were young — en pirouette ! — might tumble — 
very bad that • some were short — en pirouette ! — looked 
squat, and they drew themselves up ; in fine, all found the 
reverence en pirouette to be a very questionable experiment. 
At lengthy a member of the Divan proposed the alternative, 
that since resigning the honor was not even to be thought 
of, they should prepare, by exercise and practice, for duly 
appearing in the court circular. No sooner said than done ; 
the decision gave universal satisfaction. The conclave 
broke up ; and for the next fifteen days, in all the drawing- 
rooms of the venerable city of Cologne, from morning till 
night, the ladies were twirling away like so many spinning- 
tops or dancing dervishes. Nothing was talked of during 
the same space but these evolutions ; how many circumgira- 
tions one could make and yet keep her feet ; how many falls 
another had got, or how gracefully a third performed. 
Happily, on the evening when the Court did actually arrive, 
and consequently, on that preceding the ceremonial, which 
had given rise to all this activity, the original propounder 
of the motion bethought her of calling upon one of the Em- 
press's ladies for still more precise instructions. The re- 
doubted pirouette was now found to have been misunder- 
stood, implying simply a gentle inclination, in rising, to- 
wards the personages of the Court ; and Josephine had the 
satisfaction of being amused by the recital in private, and 
thus escaped the mortification of beholding her vi^^iters 
of the morrow transferred into so many rotary machines *' 



278 EMPEESS JOSEPHINE. 

* 

The same writer records another incident, which illustrates 
the noble nature of Josephine, and how little the stately 
formalities and cold etiquette of the Imperial Court chilled 
the geniality of her spirit. 

LIT. 

Josephine was always desirous of accompanying her hus- 
band, whenever he left Paris, and he gratified this desire as 
often as possible ; but on one occasion, after he had promised 
her she should go with him, he changed his purpose, on the 
arrival of a courier with important news, and gave orders 
to have everything got ready for the departure at one 
o'clock at night. He was just stepping into his carriage, 
when Josephine, who had in spite of his precautions, learned 
that he was going, flew from her chamber, half-dressed, ran 
down stairs, and cast herself into his arms. The Emperor, 
like most other men, found it difiicult to resist such an ap- 
peal, and the tears of Josephine at last prevailed. She 
would go, and yet Napoleon could not wait one minute. He 
laid her down on the bottom of the carriage, and covered 
her with his traveling-pelisse, and giving a hasty order 
about her clothes, ard attendants, the carriage whirled away. 

LV. 

But although in the restoration of all the etiquette of the 
ancienne regime, which comported so ill with the newness and 
republican origin of the Emperor, subjected him to the 
severest satire, he won the applause of the friends of virtue 
everywhere by the high standard of morality he exacted in 
the manners of the Court. It is universally conceded that 
in this respect, he worked a complete revolution. He inva- 
riably refused every application, from whatever quarter it 
came, for unmarried ladies to be attached to his Court 



279 

Even Josephine herself was powerless to infringe this inva- 
riable rule. The disorders, and sensualities of his predeces- 
sors on the throne of France, had been immeasurably gross 
and disgusting. Nothing of this kind existed under the 
reign of Napoleon. As a natural consequence, the standard 
of morality was everywhere, in French society, elevated. 
This happy change has been going on until the present time, 
when the manners and the morals of the French people en- 
title them to the respect and admiration of the civilized 
world — although it is quite possible that strenuous efforts 
in the same direction, might still meet with further progress. 

LVI. 

But Josephine's tranquillity of mind did not long continue, 
and discerning as she did, with infallible accuracy, the 
feeling of the Court, and understanding as she did, the in- 
trigues continually going on to effect a divorce, she once 
more began to prepare her mind for a second widowhood 
during the life of her husband. Every reader of her me- 
moirs will be impressed more deeply perhaps by the magni- 
tude of her sorrows, than the splendor of her good fortune. 
On the occasion of the grand reception of the Princes of 
Germany, the Empress saw for the first time the young 
Princess of Baden, whom Talleyrand was endeavoring tn 
persuade Napoleon to choose for his second wife ; he had 
often represented her as the most beautiful and accomplished 
princess in Europe. When the two ladies met, the contrast 
was so broad, between the plain, and almost rude German 
girl, and her imperial rival, that even Talleyrand himself 
saw that the case was hopeless, and from that time dropped 
the subject altogether. So completely was the diplomatic 
intriguer foiled in this attempt, that the hereditary Prince 
of Baden afterwards sued for, aad married Stephanie Beau- 



280 EMPRESS JOSEPHINE. 

harnais, Josephine's own neice. From time to time, these 
schemes for a divorce were renewed and prosecuted with 
fresh ardor, and just as often they failed. Josephine perhaps 
became persuaded that her husband did not seriously enter- 
tain them ; and, long after the divorce had finally taken 
place, she said that Napoleon would never have dreamed of 
it, had it not been pressed on him so constantly by others. 
The imposing ceremony of the Coronation of the Emperor 
by Pius YII., for a- while annihilated the hopes of Jo- 
sephine's enemies and re-assured herself. In the memoir of 
Cardinal Fesch, we have spoken of the coronation, and also 
of the fact, that the Pope had refused to celebrate it, until 
Napoleon and his wife, who had only been joined by a civil 
process, had first been married with all the solemnities and 
sacraments of the Catholic Church. The intercourse of the 
Empress and the Pope, during his five months' residence in 
Paris, was marked by every sign of courtesy and affection- 
ate regard. Everything which the most refined taste, and 
the purest veneration for virtue and official dignity could 
dictate on the part of Josephine, was done. As long as 
these two personages lived, their intercourse was maintained 
by correspondence, and their letters are among the most in- 
teresting and beautiful which have ever passed between 
illustrious sovereigns. 

LYII. "^ 

We can devote but a single paragraph to the part Jo 
trephine sustained on the magnificent day of the coronation 
A reliable authority which we draw from, thus minutely 
describes the toilet of the Empress : — 

" The body-drapery of the Empress was of white satin, 
beautifully embroidered in gold, and on the breast orna- 
mented \vi^-h diamonds. The mantle was of crimson velvet, 



josephixe's coronation. 281 

Iii;ed with white satin and ermine, studded with golden 
bees, and confined by an aigrette of diamonds. The coro- 
nation jewels consisted of a crown, a diadem, and a ceinture. 
The first, used for the actual crowning, and worn only on 
state occasions, consisted of eight branches, four wrought in 
palm, and four in myrtle leaves of gold, incrusted with dia 
monds : round the circlet ran a corded fillet set with eight 
very large emeralds ; and the bandeau which immediately 
inclosed the head, shone with resplendent amethysts. The 
diadem, worn before the coronation, and on the more ordi- 
nary state, occasions, was composed of four rows of pearls 
of the finest water, interlaced with foliage of diamonds, the 
workmanship of which equaled the materials ; in front were 
several brilliants, the largest weighing one hundred and 
forty-nine grains. The ceinture was of gold so pure as to 
be quite elastic, enriched with thirty-nine rose-colored dia- 
monds." 

We have always thought that more importance should be 
attached to one circumstance that occurred during the coro- 
nation, than has usually been given to it. Although, in 
sending to the capital of the Catholic world for a Pope to 
consecrate the establisli^ent of the new dynasty, Napoleon 
may have seemed to surrender the great principle of his 
political faith, yet in forbidding the Pontiff from even touch- 
ing the crown which lay before him, and especially by the 
act of lifting it himself, and placing it on his own head, he 
ga^e the world to understand that he was the founder and 
author of his own dynasty. It was to her husband that 
Josephine knelt, and it was from his hands that she 
received her imperial crown. 



282 EMPEESS JOSEPHINE. 

LVlir. 

The entire month of December, was given up by their 
new subjects to celebrations, pomps and festivals. Illumi- 
nations, fetes and rejoicings, filled the Empire. On the 
evening of the great fete given by the city of Paris, [Dec 
15], the Empress found in the apartments prepared for her 
temporary reception, in the Hotel de Yille, a toilet-service 
a table, ewer and basin of massive gold, and exquisite work 
manship — a present from the Municipality of Paris. A 
curious incident also occurred in connection with this fete, 
worth relating : — An immense balloon, formed into the 
shape of an imperial crown, irradiating brilliant lamps like 
the gems of a coronet, was launched that evening. The 
burning diadem rose majestically into the heavens, and 
sailed off towards the south. Fifteen days later, as the 
Emperor was dressing, one morning, a member of the Privy 
Council entered, and announced that the diadem balloon 
had fallen near Pome on the evening of the 17th ; " thus 
bearing," said the Councilor, " your imperial crownto the 
two capitals of the world within twenty-two hours." The 
fact is perfectly substantiated, that this flying emblem of the 
glory of Napoleon's Empire, had traversed France, scaled 
the Alps, and swept over Italy, 900 miles, at the rate of 
forty-five an hour. 

LIX. 

One evening in April, another incident still more signifi- 
cant of the fortunes of the Napoleon Dynasty, occurred. 
Hortense had just given birth to her second son, and Louis 
Napoleon was solemnly baptized in the presence of his 
Uncle, the Emperor, and his Grand-mother, Letitia, who 
became his sponsors. It is more than probable that as Na- 
poleon took the babe in his arms, he thought that he might 



JOSEPHINE CKOSSING THE ALPS. 283 

one day wear his crown ; and it is certain that years after- 
wards, when the Emperor held this boy on his knee, he 
playfully talked with him about his one day sitting upon 
the throne. 

After the festivities which followed the ceremonies of this 
baptism that same evening, were concluded, as Napoleon 
was passing through the hall to retire, he uttered to the 
Marshal of his household the simple order — " Horses at six 
for Italy." Napoleon visited Brienne, the scene of his 
youthful studies on the tour, while Josephine joined him — 
by a more direct route — at Lyons. Those stupendous roads 
which the Emperor afterwards constructed over the Alps, 
were then but just begun, and two beautiful sedans — the 
Emperor's lined with crimson and ornamented with gold, 
and Josephine's with blue satin, and ornaments of silver — 
had been sent from Turin, for crossing Mount Cenis. These 
luxurious means of transport enabled the Empress to cross 
that terrible barrier of ice which separates the North of 
Europe from the Holy Land of the scholar, and the Para- 
dise of climates, with the luxurious ease of an excursion 
through the parks of Malmaison. But, participating in the 
inspiring scenes which surrounded her, Josephine often step- 
ped from the sedan, and, calling for the arm of her husband, 
walked considerable distances through the snow, rapt in 
the inspiration which these awful sublimities of nature 
wakened. 

LX. 

She desired to visit some of the scenes of her husband's 
/ictories during the Italian Campaign, and the cortege drove 
to the battle-field of. Marengo, where the Empress was sur- 
prised by the magnificent array of 30,000 of the finest 
troops of the Empire, who were reviewed in front of a vast 
amphitheatre, that had been erected beforehand ; and, seated 



284 EMPRESS JOSEPHINE. 

at Napoleon's side, she witnessed the distribution of the 
Cross of the Legion of Honor to the heroes of the Empire. 
She noticed sometning curious in the uniform of the Empe- 
ror. His hat was trimmed with broad but tarnished gold- 
Lace. The cloak that he now called his imperial mantle, 
was worm-eaten. His coat was blue, with long skirts, and 
at his side hung a heavy cavalry sabre — all bespeaking days 
of greater simplicity, and harder knocks. Said Josephine, 
" Why — ^how shabby you are dressed." 

" Dressed !" said Napoleon ; " why ! will not this do ?— ■ 
This is what I wore on the day of Marengo." 

When these scenes of mimic-war, which revived the 
recollections of the brilliant victories of Italy were passed, 
the imperial cortege traveled to Milan, where the ceremony 
of the Coronation of Napoleon, as King of Italy, was cele- 
brated with great splendor in the cathedral. This most 
superb of all the mighty structures that were erected during 
the middle ages for the worship of God, now witnessed the 
most magnificent display it had ever seen. The Iron Grown 
of the Lombard Kings, which, just one thousand and four 
years before, had encircled the brow of Charlemange, now 
pressed the head of Napoleon. One word of this most 
venerable of all Royal or Christian relics : It is called the 
Iron Crown, because a tradition — which has been believed 
by many wise and learned men — informs us, that the narrow 
strip of iron which lines the base circle^ of the crown, waa 
one of the nails v/hich fixed the Saviour to the Cross. It has 
been placed upon the anointed heads of a hundred empe- 
rors and kings, and can still be seen in the cathedral at 
Mo Liza, a small town a few miles north of Milan. There it 
is preserved with the regalia, the missal and other jewels 
and treasures of Theodolinda, one of the first Gothic Chris- 
tian Queens of Lombardy. 



THE RAPID EETURN' FPt03I ITALY. 285 

LXI. 

After a brief sojourn in the Capital of Lombardy, the 
imperial tourists crossed the " terrible Bridge of Lodi," 
visited the Castle of Mantua, and finally reached Genoa, 
that superb city, whose principal avenue, lined with the finest 
palaces in the world for upwards of a mile, Napoleon re- 
marked, " was fit for a Congress of Kings." Delighted with 
the people, the climate, and the scenes of enchantment and 
festivity around her, she wished to remain for a considera- 
ble period ; but the despots of Europe had consolidated 
another coalition against the new Emperor, and the first 
blasts of the storm of battle were now sweeping down from 
the North. The receipt of important information, hurried 
Napoleon back to Paris, to prepare for the campaign of 
Austerlitz. Josephine could have returned with more lei- 
sure, but she preferred to accompany her husband. Once 
on the journey, they hardly rested an hour till it was 
finished. The relays of post-horses were now so complete all 
over the Empire, that a journey of a thousand miles could 
be performed almost with the speed of a railway. This 
resembled a flight rather than a journey. As the carriage 
came up to each station, buckets of fresh water were dashed 
upon the smoking wheels which caught fire at every relay ; 
yet so great was the impatience of the Emperor, that he was 
continually crying out, " On ! — on ! — we do not move !" at 
every step, although the panting horses were flying as 
though they were on a race-course. 

LXII. 

After a brief interval of repose in Paris, the Emperor 
pushed on to Boulogne, struck his camp of 200,000 men, 
who had been destined for the invasion of England, and 
pointed the flight of his Eagles once more beyond the Rhine. 



286 EMPRESS JOSEPHIKE. 

Josephine was left Eegent of the Empire; and, to show 
with what lofty and just yiews she contemplated the im- 
portance of her new duties, we quote the following letter, 
which she addressed to Cambaceres, Arch-Chancellor of the 
Empire, and her chief adnser : — 

"Sir, — To-morrow, as you know, in absence of the Em- 
peror, I am to give audience to the Senate and the different 
authorities. In a conjuncture of such moment, two things 
are needful — to inform you of my intentions, and to receive 
your advice. In this my necessity, to whom can I more 
properly apply than to the distinguished personage who pos- 
sesses the Emperor's entire confidence, and whom France 
regards, with reason, as his worthy representative ? 

" The various addresses have been communicated to me, 
and I send you an outline of the terms in which, I conceive, 
T ought to reply. 

" I remind the Senate, that as fathers of their country and 
conservators of her institutions, to them belongs the sole 
duty of maintaining a balance between the different powers 
of the state, not permitting themselves to encroach upon any 
one. To the legislative body I say, that their functions are 
to judge, and to pass laws, particularly those relating to 
taxation, without meddling in the march of government, 
which such interference would impede. I call to the remem- 
brance of the Council of State, that for them has been' re- 
served the important duty of preparing, by previous discus- 
sion, good internal laws, and a durable legislation. To the 
ministers I state, that they form neither a corporation nor 
even a legislative commission — neither the administration 
nor the government ; but that, under the title of superior 
agents of the government, and first commissioners of its 
chief, they execute, and cause to be executed, orders which 



JOSEPHIN-E REGENT OE THE EMPIRE. '287 

are the immediate consequences of legislative determina- 
tions. To the clergy I explain, that they form a portion of 
the state, while the state never is, and never can be, tranc- 
ferred to them; that their sole and exclusive province is the 
conscience, upon which they are to act so as form citizens 
to the country, soldiers for the territory, subjects for the 
sovereign, and virtuous fathers of families. To the magis- 
tracy I say, that applying without interpreting the laws, in 
unity of views and identity of jurisprudence, they are to 
seize with sagacity the spirit of the law, reconciling the hap- 
piness of the governed with the respect due to governors. 
To the savans I acknowledge, that the gentle empire of the 
arts, of science, and literature, tempers whatever might be 
too austere in arms, which yet, in a season of transition and 
trial, are indispensable. The manufacturers and merchants 
are reminded, that they should have but two thoughts, 
which at bottom are one and the same — the prosperity of 
our own productions, and the ruin of those of England. 
Finally, to the agriculturists it is stated, that the treasures 
of France are buried in the soil, and that by the plough- 
share and the spade they are thence to be extracted. To 
the heroes of either service I have nothing to say — this 
palace is filled with their exploits ; and from under a canopy 
of standards, conquered by their valor, and consecrated by 
their blood, do I speak. 

" Let me know speedily, and with perfect frankness, 
whether I am worthy thus to address the augnst assembly 
of my hearers." 

LXIII. 

We need not again recount the prodigies of this brilliant 
campaign. Scarcely a day passed without the arrival of 
Napoleon's couriers, bringing intelligence of new victories ; 
but for some time now no courier had arrived, and Jo- 



288 ' EMPRESS JOSEPHINE. 

sephine liad begun to grow anxious. A numerous circle 
had passed the evening at St. Cloud, where the non-arrival 
of intelligence formed almost the only subject of conversa 
tion. Josephine felt the deepest depression of spirits, and 
the party was about to break up late at night, when, sud- 
denly, shouts were heard, and a single rider came up into 
the court-yard. The Empress rushed to the windows, and 
heard the grateful words — " Victory !— Austerlitz !" She 
flew down the stairs, followed by the ladies of the Court, 
where she was greeted by " Moustache," (the soubriquet Na- 
poleon had fixed on his faithful Mameluke,) who put into her 
hands a hasty note from the field of battle by the Emperor. 
She made out the contents of the half-illegible scrawl by the 
light of the flambeaux, and drawing from her finger a superb 
diamond ring, presented it to this swarthy son of the 
Nile. He had ridden one hundred and fifty miles within the 
last twelve hours ; and, as he was taken exhausted from the 
saddle, his noble horse fell dead on the pavement ! 

LXIV. 

Another circumstance now added to the happiness of Jo- 
sephine — The marriage of her son Eugene with the Princess 
Koyal of Bavaria. She obeyed with alacrity the mandate 
which called her to celebrate the nuptials at Munich. Lit 
tic had now for some time been said about a divorce. Her 
daughter had married a brother of Napoleon and was soon 
to be raised to the throne of Holland — her son had married 
into one of the royal families of Europe — Napoleon's star 
was mounting still higher into the firmament and blazing 
with deeper intensity — she was the object almost of thi* 
idolatry of the French nation — and Heaven seem-cd to 
spread every morning's sunshine upon the hills without a 
■iingle cloud. 



DEATH OF NAPOLEON CHARLES. 289 ; 

LXV. 

This, however, was but the calmness which precedes the 
tempest. Had the first son of Hor tense lived, there can be 
little doubt thai he would have been selected as the heir to 
the Empire. He had evinced from his infancy the most 
sprightly disposition, and his Uncle was tenderly attached to 
him ; but he died in his fifth year, [in 1807 J, and almost 
immediately afterward Napoleon opened negotiations with 
Alexander for an alliance with one of the imperial princesses 
of Russia. Hortense went almost mad with the loss of this 
favorite boy, and Josephine herself sujQTered almost as deeply. 
She said that if her agony was not as acute, her sorrow was 
greater than a mother's. When the news came of the 
death of young Napoleon Charles, she spent three days in 
her room alone weeping, with a portrait of her grandson, a 
lock of his hair, and the little toys he had played with ; and 
she felt a presentiment of what turned out to be true, that 
her loss was irreparable. Many incidents had conspired to 
attach Napoleon to this child. One morning, for instance, 
after the Emperor had held a review of the Old Guard, and, 
coming into the Tuilleries, had thrown his sword on one 
sofa and his hat on another — as he walked the apartment, 
conversing with his wife, the little Napoleon Charles entered 
the room unobserved, and, putting the sword-belt over his 
neck and the chapeau on his head, began to march after 
his Uncle and whistle one of the martial airs of France. 
When the Emperor saw the little prince thus playing his 
pranks, he caught him in his arms, and, bestowing upon him 
the deepest caresses, said, with a smile, to Josephine — " Here 
is the next Emperor of France." But who the successor of 
Napoleon should be was to be decided in the councils of a 
higher Empire, 



290 EMPRESS JOSEPHINE. 

LXVI. 

Tlic Emperor liad returned from the ratification of the 
Peace of Tilsit, and reached Paris on the 27 th of July. The 
remainder of this last peaceful summer of Josephine's life 
they passed most of the time either at St. Cloud or a 
Fontainbleau. In the middle of November, scarcely without 
a warning, Josephine was asked if she would like to go to 
Italy ? A few hours after, the carriages came up, and they 
traveled with such speed through France and across the 
Alps, that they were within two miles of Milan before Eu- 
gene, now the Viceroy of Italy, knew that the Emperor had 
left Paris. He had just time to mount a horse, and, with a 
few attendants, ride out to mcQt the cortege. " Come, 
Eugene,'^ were Napoleon's first words; " sit here by your 
mother and let us enter your Capital together." Another 
tour through Italy followed — important political results 
succeeded; but in a few weeks Napoleon and Josephine 
returned to Paris, where they arrived on New Year's Eve, 
1808. Soon after. Mademoiselle de Tascher, niece to the 
Empress, was married to the Duke d'Arberg, one of the 
Princes of the Confederation of the Rhine. Alliances 
were also consummated between Prince Hohenzollern and 
a niece of Murat ; and Berthier with a Princess of Bavaria. 
Hundreds of successive numbers of the journals of that 
day are filled with accounts of that winter of festivities 
which celebrated the recent triumphs of Napoleon on tiie 
field, and the new matrimonial ,alliances contracted by 
difi'erent branches of his family. Great as was Napoleon's 
repugnance to masked balls, he was induced to attend one 
of them ; when, for the first and last time in his imperial 
life, he is said to have participated in the dance. He bad 
ordered ten difi'erent dresses to be taken to the apartment 
designed for him j but in each disguise ho was detected. 



NAPOLEON AT A MASKED BALL. 291 

Several of liis marshals often amused themselves with a good 
laugh at his utter failure in this attempt to unplay the 
Emperor. " Do you know," said Napoleon, when rallied on 
this subject, " that I was regularly discovered by a jeune 
dame, who seemed to be an accomplished intrigant ; and yet, 
would you believe it, with all my efforts I never could recog- 
nize the flirt.'^ Josephine was present during this conversa- 
tion ; and, unable to contain herself any longer, fell to 
laughing immoderately. Thus the discovery at last came 
out, that she had been the '^jeune dame " herself. 

LXVII. 

The following racy story is given on high authority by 
one of the biographers of Josephine : — " During the carnival 
of that winter the masked balls at the opera were fre- 
quented by all the upper classes, and were particularly 
amusing. Josephine was very anxious to have Napoleon 
see one ; but he would not go. ' Then I shall go without 
you, Mon Ami,' replied the Empress. ' Do as you like,' was 
the response, as the Emperor rose from the breakfast-table. 
At the appointed time Josephine left for the ball ; but, the 
very moment she had set out, her husband sent for one of 
her femmes-de-chambre to learn exactly how she was dressed. 
With a game to play, the Emperor resolved to do his part 
well ; so with Duroc, another officer, and his own favorite 
valet, all completely masked, he entered a common carriage, 
and, arm in arm, they went into the ball-room. Napoleon 
was that night to have the name of Auguste, Duroc was to 
be Fran9ois, &c. They made the tour of the apartments 
undetected, and not a person resembling Josephine was 
visible. He was about leaving, when a mask approached 
and rallied him with so much wit he had to stop for a reply ; 
but he was somewhat embarrassed, which being perceived 



292 EMPKESS JOSEPHIXB. ": 

by the mask, harder repartees fell thick and fast. The 
crowd mingled in the giddy and electric movements of a 
lal masqu^, but at every turn this mask whispered low in his 
ear, a state secret, of little importance in itself, but startling 
to Napoleon. At last he exclaimed, after one of these 
whispers — ' Comment, diable ? — Who are you ?' And thus he 
was tormented for nearly an hour, till he could endure it no 
longer, when he withdrew in disdain and disgust. When 
he entered the palace that night, he learned that Josephine 
had some time before retired to her room. As they met 
next morning, Napoleon said — ' So you were not at the ball 
last night.' ' Indeed I was.' ' Oh, Josephine !' * But I 
assure you I was there. And you, Mon Ami,' with a half- 
suppressed smile, she continued, 'what were you about all 
the evening ?' ' I was in my cabinet,' said Napoleon. * Oh, 
Auguste !' replied the Empress, with an arch gesture. The 
whole secret was out : Josephine had donned a new costume 
of which her femme-de-chambre knew nothing, and Napo- 
leon enjoyed and repeated the joke a thousand times." It 
were all vain to hope that her husband, in any costume, 
could move without having his identity immediately de- 
tected by a woman of such keen perceptions as Josephine.' 

LXVIII. 

The next event of any importance in the life of Josephine 
is found in her departure for Bayonne with her husband; 
when he went to the conquest of Spain. She kept a most 
interesting diary of every-day occurrences during this jour- 
ney, but we cannot tind space for the extract of a single 
line. Then followed the second campaign of Vi(mna, which 
left Josephine a second time Regent of France. After the 
Emperor returned from the campaign, which was ended by 
the victory of Wagram, it became evident, that her divorce 



THE DIVORCE APPROACHING. 293 

was approaching. The court was established at Fontain- 
bleau, but the Emperor passed very little of his time with 
his wife, and shortly afterwards, at the Emperor's command, 
the private access between their apartments was closed up. 
They now seldom met ; and when Josephine returned from 
these interviews her eyes and complexion bore marks of the 
intensity of her suffering. At last, when it became necessary 
for the Emperor to communicate undisguisedly his decision^ 
he endeavored to persuade her of its political necessity and 
advantages ; but she asserted and defended the sacredness 
of her claims by arguments, tears, supplications and appeals, 
but ending always with that calm resignation to her fate 
and that magnanimous immolation of self, which time and 
again enfeebled the purpose and unnerved the heart of the 
Emperor. 

LXIX. 

" In what stupor," says Josephine, in speaking of this 
terrible interval, " in what uncertainty, more terrible than 
death, did I live during these discussions, until he had 
avowed the resolution I had so long read clearly in his face. 
She rallied, however, sometimes, and one evening particu- 
larly when they were alone, she led her husband to the 
western window and, singling out a bright star, said, " Do 
you see it, Bonaparte ? It is mine : and remember that to 
my star and not to thine, sovereignty is decreed by Heaven. 
Separate our fates and your star sinks forever !" 

Again and again Napoleon's purpose was defeated ; again 
and again, however, he summoned resolution for what cost 
him the severest struggle of his life. He had at last fixed 
on the 3Cth of November for making known to his wife his 
unalterable determination. He had passed most of the day 
in his library, and she in tears, in the solitude of her cham- 
ber. They were to dine together alone. Course after 



294 EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 

course came, and went away untouclied. The only sound at 
the table was the click of Napoleon's knife on the edge of 
his glass, which he did unconsciously. He asked one ques- 
tion of no importance — it was something of an attendant 
about the weather. " My sunshine," says Josephine's own 
record, " I saw had passed away. Directly after coffee, Bo- 
naparte dismissed every one, and I remained alone with 
him. I watched in the changing expression of his counte- 
nance, the struggle of his soul. At length his features 
settled into stern resolve. I saw that my hour was come. 
His whole frame trembled. He approached, and I felt a 
shuddering horror come over me. He took my hand, placed 
it on his heart, gazed at me for a moment, and then pro- 
nounced these fearful words — ' Josephine ! Josephine ! Thou 
knowest if I have loved thee ! To thee alone do I owe the 
only moments of happiness I have ever enjoyed. Josephine ! 
my destiny over-masters my will. My dearest affections 
must be silent before the interests of France.' — ' Say no 
more,' I had still strength enough to answer. ' I was pre- 
pared for this, but the blow is not less mortal.' More I 
could not utter. I cannot tell what passed within me. I 
believe my screams were loud. I thought reason had fled. 
I became unconscious of everything ; and, on returning to 
my senses, found I had been carried to my chamber." She 
had indeed fallen senseless upon the floor, and calling for 
help from the door he had opened, two or three attendants 
presented themselves, with whose assistance the Emperor 
carried his wife to her bed-room. Here the attendants were 
dismissed ; and, as her women entered, they found Napoleon 
hanging over Josephine in the deepest anxiety. Often 
during the night he returned to ascertain the state of liis 
wife. " On recovering," Josephine continues in her account, 
" I perceived that Corvisart [the great surgeon,] was in 



Josephine's warninv* to napoleon. 295 

attendance, and my poor daughter, weeping over me. No, 
I cannot describe the horror of my situation during that 
night. Even the interest which he alfected to take in my 
sufferings seemed to me a fresh cruelty. Oh, my God, how 
justly had I reason to dread the day I was to become an 
Empress !" 

LXX. 

After a few days, Josephine addressed the following letter 
to her husband : — 

" My presentiments are realized. You have pronounced 
the word which separates us ; the rest is only a formality. 
Such is the reward — I will not say of so many sacrifices 
(they were sweet, because made for you) — ^but of an attach- 
ment unbounded on my part, and of the most solemn oaths 
on yours. But the state, whose interests you put forward 
as a motive, will, it is said, indemnify me, by justifying you ! 
These interests, however, to which you feign to immolate 
me, are but a pretext ; your ill-dissembled ambition — as it 
has been, so will it ever continue, the guide of your life — a 
guide which has led you to victories and to a throne, and 
which now urges you to disasters and to ruin. 

"You speak of an alliance to contract — of an heir to be 
given to your empire — of a dynasty to be founded ! But 
with whom do you contract that alliance ? With the natural 
enemy of France — that insidious house of Austria — which 
detests our country from feeling, system and necessity. Do 
you suppose that the hatred, so many proofs of which have 
been manifested, especially during the last fifty years, ha. 
not been transferred from the kingdom to the empire ; and 
that the descendants of Maria Theresa, that able sovereign, 
who purchased from Madame Pompadour the fatal treaty of 
1756, mentioned by yourself only with horror — think you I 



296 EMPRESS JOSEPHINE. 

ask, that her posterity, while they inherit her power, are not 
animated also by her spirit ? I do nothing more than re- 
peat what I have heard from you a thousand times ; but 
then your ambition limited itself to humbling a power which 
now you propose to elevate. Believe me, so long as you 
shall be master of Europe, Austria will be submissive to 
you — but never know reverse ! 

"As to the want of an heir, must a mother appear to you 
prejudiced in speaking of a son? Can I — ought I to be 
silent respecting him who constitutes my whole joy, and on 
whom once centred all your hopes ? The adoption of the 2d 
January, 1806, was, then, a political falsehood ? But there 
is one reality, at least — the talents and virtues of my Eugene 
are no illusion. How many times have you pronounced 
their eulogium ! What do I say ? Have you not deemed 
them worthy of the possession of a throne as a recompense, 
and often said they deserved more ? Alas ! France has re- 
peated the same ; but what to you are the wishes of France ? 

" I do not here speak of the person destined to succeed 
me, nor do you expect that I should mention her. What- 
ever I might say on that subject would be liable ta suspicion. 
But one thing you will never suspect — the vow whicli I form 
for your happiness. May that felicity at least recompense 
me for my sorrows. Ah ! great it will be if proportionate 
ID them!" 

LXXI. 

But no public declaration had yet been made of the 
divorce, and it was still the duty of the Empress to attend all 
publie fites which celebrated the coronation. The Viceroy 
of Italy had been summoned to appear in these festivities 
but when Napoleon made known to him the decision he had 
come to, the noble Eugene answered by saying — " Then, Sire, 
allow me to retire from your service. The son of her who 



PROCLAMATION OF THE DIYORCE. 297 

is no longer Empress, cannot remain Yicero3^ I ^^^^ follow 
my mother into her retreat. When you abandon her, she 
must find consolation in her children." It is said, that Na- 
poleon pronounced the following words with tears : — " You 
know, Eugene, the stern necessity which urges this measure — 
yet you abandon me. Who, then, if I should have a son 
whom I can love, and appoint my successor — who will watch 
over this child when I am gone? If I should die, who will 
prove a father to him — bring him up — make a man of him?" 
Josephine's magnanimity went so far that she not only re- 
solved to be present at the coronation of the woman who 
was to take her place — the hated Autrichienne — but she 
persuaded her children to concur in the act of divorce. 
" The Emperor," she said, " is your benefactor. He has 
been more than a father to you. You owe everything to 
him, and you are bound to consult his wishes." Another 
act of Josephine's must even have tasked her conscience. 
Before Marie Louise would consent to a marriage with Na 
poleon, she required evidence that he had never been mar- 
ried with religious rites. The reader already knows that 
although the night before the coronation, at the demand of 
the Pope, their union had been solemnized by Cardinal 
Fesch, yet this was a secret known only to a few, and in the 
official account in the Moniteur there was no record of the 
fact. When Josephine was appealed to, she referred in 
silence to the records of the Moniteur. Thus Marie Louise 
was left in ignorance of the religious celebration of their 
marriage, and therefore she consented to the nuptials. 

LXXII. 

On the loth of December, the Council of the Empire was 
officially informed of the intended divorce, and on the fol- 
lowing day, the imperial . family and court were assembled 



298 ^ EMPRESS JOSEPHINE. 

at tlie Tuilleries. The hollowness of courts and the heart- 
lessness of courtiers were fully exemplified by the murmur 
of congratulation that went through the assemblage. Napo 
leon was the only sad man there. In the centre of the 
great saloon stood an arm-chair before a small table, on 
which was a sheet of parchment and an apparatus of gold 
for writing. When the company were all assembled, a 
door opened, and Josephine, dressed in a white muslin, 
without an ornament, slowly entered, leaning on the arm 
of Hortense, whose tears bespoke how little she was re- 
signed to this immolation of her imperial mother. With 
the grace which characterized all her movements, she glided 
half-cheerfully to a seat, where she listened with great calm- 
ness to the reading of the act of separation. As the words 
fell from the lips of the Arch- Chancellor of the Empire, 
large and lustrous tears rolled unbidden but calmly down 
her cheeks. Hortense sobbed aloud all the time, and Eu- 
gene, the warrior, trembled convulsively. The leading 
was finished. Pressing for an instant the handkerchief to 
her eyes, she arose, and with almost a firm voice, pronounced 
the oath of acceptance to this infamous deed. Resuming 
her seat again, she took the pen, and signed her assent 
to the divorce. As she had come, so she withdrew on the 
arm of the Queen of Holland, and Eugene, unable to con- 
trol his feelings, followed the suffering group, and when 
the door closed behind them, he fell fainting to the floor. 
A brave man can front danger and overawe adversity, but 
cannot look unmoved upon cruelty and injustice. 

LXXIII. 

But there was another act in this drama of the heart and 
this farce of a heartless Empire, yet to be witnessed on that 
day. Late at night, when the Emperor had retired to rest, 



JOSEPIIIXE LEAVES THE IMPERIAL PALACE. 299 

suddenly the door of his chamber opened, and Josephine 
tottered to his bed-side, and in an agony of tears threw 
herself upon the neck of her husband. She knew that she 
ought not to be there, and yet she felt that she must. 
Napoleon himself was overcome with the majesty and the 
greatness of her suffering, and they wept together for an 
hour, clasped in each other's arms. It was the last time 
they were to meet on the imperial couch, and Napoleon him- 
self prolonged the interview. 

LXXIV. 

The next morning at eleven, the divorced Empress was 
to leave the Palace of the Tuilleries, to return to it no more. 
From the highest to the lowest member of the household, 
all assembled to witness the departure of her, who, in the 
fine language of one of their number, carried with her into 
exile, the hearts of all who had had access to her presence. 
Leaning on the arm of one of her ladies, and so deeply 
veiled that her countenance could not be seen, she descended 
the stair-way in a silence too profound to last ; for she had 
taken but a few steps before there was an involuntary and 
simultaneous burst of grief. But she spoke not. The only 
response shfe made to this touching language of grief from 
those who loved her, was the shudder of the last pang she 
was ever to feel in the imperial halls where she had embel- 
lished the Empire of Napoleon. She sank fainting into a 
close carriage, and the clatter of the feet of six horsea 
echoed coldly through the court-yard, as they bore away 
from that ancient palace, the fairest, the brightest, and the 
best woman that had ever sat upon the throne of France. 



800 EMPRESS JOSEPHINE. 

LXXT. 

Several montlis Josephine had now passed in solitude and 
grief. Whatever Napoleon could do to mitigate the harsh- 
ness of this severe stroke had been done. A pension of 
six hundred thousand dollars a year was settled on her for 
life, and promptly paid till Napoleon's fall. The magnificent 
villa of Malmaison, with all its grounds and treasures of art 
and beauty, with the ancient palace of Navarre, were pre- 
sented to her — and her title of Empress was confirmed.- 
She received frequent visits — " almost of homage " — from 
the members of the Imperial Court ; for it was universally 
understood that Napoleon desired every token of respect 
should be shown to his former wife. Her villa presented a 
more animated and brilliant spectacle than even while 
Napoleon was its master. It was frequented by the most 
illustrious statesmen, scholars, artists and men of taste, of 
the Empire. She was universally respected, admired and be- 
loved, and her fall from the throne seemed to clothe her with 
new splendor. - " 

LXXYI. - 

She still cherished her affection for Napoleon, and lost no 
opportunity of demonstrating her respect for him. " The 
apartment he had occupied remained exactly as" he had left 
it ; she would not suffer even a chair to be moved, and, 
indeed, very rarely permitted any one to enter, keeping the 
key herself, and dusting the articles ^^ith her own hands. 
On the table Avas a volume of history, with the page doubled 
down where he had finished reading ; beside it lay a pen, 
with ink dried on the point, and a map of the world, on 
which he was accustomed to point out his plans to those in 
his confidence, and which still showed on its surface many 
marks of his impatience. These Josephine would not allow 
to be touched on any account. By the wall stood Napoleon's 



JOSEPHINE AFTER THE DIVORCE. 301 

camp-bed, without curtains ; and above continued to hang 
such of his arms as he had placed there. On different 
pieces of furniture were flung various portions of apparel, 
just as he had used them last ; for, among his other extra- 
ordinary ways, he had a practice, on retiring to rest, of 
flinging rather than taking off his clothes, casting down a 
coat here, a vest there, usually pitching his watch into the 
bed, and his hat and shoes into the farthest corner of the 
apartment. 

" Josephine's own bed-chamber, to which she removed after 
the divorce, was extremely simple, draped only with white 
muslin, its sole ornament being the gold toilet-service 
already mentioned, and which, with a noble generosity, she 
refused to consider as private property, till Napoleon sent 
it after her, together with many other valuables left behind 
in like manner." 

LXXVII. 

In devoting herself to the adornment of the villa Mal- 
maison, Josephine displayed the most refined and artistic 
taste. In a letter of instruction to her superintendent, she 
tells him that the first apartment of the suite, which was to 
serve for an ante-room, must be painted in light green, with 
a border of lilacs. In the panels were to be placed fine 
engravings from bible scenes, and under each, a portrait of 
the distinguished Generals of the Revolution. In the centre 
of the room, there was always to be a large flower-stand 
filled with fresh flowers in their season, and in each angle, 
the bust of a French philosopher. She particularly men- 
tions that Rousseau was to stand between the two windows, 
where the vines and foliage could play around his head, 
forming a natural crown worthy of the author of Emile, 
Her private cabinet was to be in light blue, with a border 



302 EMPRESS JOSEPHIlfE. 

of ranunculus and polyanthus. Ten large engravings from 
tlie galiery of the Musee, and twenty medaUions, filled up 
the panels. The casements were painted white and green, 
with double fillets of gold. ^' Unite elegance to variety; 
but no study, no profusion. I confide to you the care of 
rendering this cherished spot an agreeable retreat, where 
I may meditate — sleep, perhaps — but often est read ; which 
sa3^s sufficient to remind you of the three -hundred volumes 
of my small edition.^' 

LXXVIII. 

The first million of francs which Napoleon allowed Jo- 
sephine from his own purse, were expended in restoring the 
castle of the ancient kings of Navarre, which had been long 
neglected, and nearly demolished in the Eevolution. Its 
immense park had once been embellished by flowing streams 
and gleaming lakes; but the water-courses had ceased to 
flow, and the lakes had become stagnant marshes. But 
Josephine soon made it wear a new aspect; the beds of the 
streams were cleared out, and covered with white gravel ; 
the lakes were excavated and filled with fish ; the old 
forest roads w^ere repaired, and fertility and beauty once 
more embellished this ancient retreat of the French mo- 
narchs. In these delightful engagements, she was aided by 
the taste of the most distinguished artists in France, and in 
her public improvements Napoleon himself aided by his 
ingenious and practical suggestions. Thus, gradually, the 
heavy cloud which had so long hung in blackness over her 
heavens, began to break away, and was dissolved by the 
balmy sunshine ; and her palace soon v/ore the aspect of 
hospitable, intellectual and artistic refinement. 



803 



LXXIX. 

A great deal of pleasant correspondence was maintained 
'^ith Napoleon ; and from one of her letters we make the 
following extract : — " I was perfectly assured that your 
attachment would discover the means of consoling me. 
under a separation necessary to the tranquillity of us both. 
After proving all the sweets of reciprocated love, and all the 
suffering of one that can no longer be returned ; after ex- 
hausting all the pleasures that supreme power can confer, 
what is there left but repose, that I can now desire ? Do 
not then condole with me on my being separated from court, 
which you seem to think I regret. Surrounded by those 
who love me — free to indulge my taste for the arts — I form 
a thousand projects of pleasure, in embellishing the scenes 1 
owe to your generosity. There is much to be done here at 
Navarre ; for all around are discovered traces of destruc 
tion. These I will efface, that there may exist no memorial 
of those horrors which your genius has taught the nation 
almost to forget. I shall diffuse comfort around me, in re- 
pairing what the Revolutionary destroyers tried to annihi- 
late, and the benedictions of the poor will afford me infinitely 
more pleasure than all the feigned adulations of cour- 
tiers. * * My most honorable title is derived, not from 
having worn the Imperial Crown, but from having been 
chosen by you — that alone secures me immortality. I 
expect Eugene. I long to see him, for he will surely bring 
me a new pledge of your remembrance, and I can at leisure 
ask him a thousand things, Avhich I cannot inquire of you, 
and which you ought not to tell me. * * I find myself 
particularly at home in the midst of my forest ; and I in- 
treat you. Sire, no longer to fancy that there is no living 
away from Court. Do not forget your friend : tell her 
eometimes, that you preserve for her an attachment which 



304 EMPRESS JOSEPHINE. 

constitutes the happiness of her life : often repeat the words 
' I am happy ;* and be assured, that for her, the future will 
thus be peaceful, as the past has been stormy and sad." 

LXXX. 

. We have, in the life of Napoleon, briefly spoken of the 
rejoicings which attended the birth of the King of Rome. 
It is not only a duty, but a pleasure, to contemplate the 
conduct of Josephine at this period, which any but a 
magnanimous soul must have found so extremely trying. 
By couriers and telegraphic signals, the tidings of the birth 
of Napoleon's son flew to every quarter of France, and the 
most distant corner of the Empire of his father. Orders 
were received by the Prefect of Evreux, to celebrate the 
event ; but Napoleon (for it could not have been an over- 
sight,) had sent no messenger to Josephine. That great 
man w^as not great enough, to conceive how his divorced 
wife could be generous enough to mingle hers in the uni- 
versal congratulations. A young lady of rank, who was 
then a guest at Navarre, says in her account — " My affec- 
tion for Josephine was so boundless, that I suffered the 
intensest sorrow in thinking how great her grief must be. 
I knew, however, but imperfectly the grandeur of her soul 
or her absolute devotion to the happiness of Napoleon. I 
imagined there must remain in her enough of the common 
woman, to excite bitter regret, that she had not been the 
mother of the son so ardently desired. But I could not 
have made a greater mistake. Among all the joyous faces 
when the news came, Josephine's was more radiant than all. 
She expressed her great regret, at being so far from Paris — 
for at Malmaison, she could have received information 
overy half hour ; and she expressed her gratitude even, that 
the painfull Bacri-fice, she had made for France, was. likelj^ 



HER JOY ON THE BIRTH OF THE KING OF ROME. 305 

now to be of service to her country. Josephine said the only 
tiling that made her sad was, that she had not been informed 
of the Emperor's happiness by him.self. But she said to 
us — ' Young ladies, we must have a fete to celebrate this 
auspicious event. I will give you a splendid ball ; so make 
your preparations. Get out my jewels. And as for you, 
gentlemen, I require that you now go into grande costumed " 

LXXXl. 

On the very night Josephine received the news, she wrote 
a letter to Napoleon, from which we extract a few lines : — 
"Sii^e, — While you are receiving felicitations from every 
corner of Europe, from all the cities of France, and the 
regiments of the army, can the feeble voice of a w^oman 
reach your ear, and will you deign to listen to her, who has 
so often consoled your sorrows, now when she speaks to you 
only of that happiness which must be so complete ? Having 
ceased to be your wife, dare I felicitate you on becoming a 
father? * * I should have desired to learn the birth of 
the King of Eome from yourself, and not from the echoes 
of the cannon of Evreux, or the courier of the Prefect. I 
know that your first attentions are due to the authorities 
of the State— to foreign ministers— to your family— and 
above all, to the fortunate Princess, who has realized your 
dearest hopes. Although she cannot love you better than T 
do, she has been enabled to consummate your hopes. I dare 
not depend on you. Sire, for circumstantial details of the 
great event which assures perpetuity to the name you have 
so nobly illustrated. Eugene and Hor tense will write me, 
and express their own satisfaction ; but it is from you that I 
desire to know if the child is well— if he looks like you— 
if I shall one day be allowed to see him— in a word, I 
expect from you unlimited confidence ; and I have some 



306 EMPRESS JOSEPHINE. 

claim on it, Sire, because of the boundless attachment I 
shall cherish for you as long as I live." 

The day after, Eugene set out to visit his mother — to give 
her all the details of this great event, upon which the desti- 
nies of the Empre seemed suspended. When he met his 
mother, he said, '• The Emperor instructed me when I left, 
in these words — * You are going to see your mother, Eu- 
gene ; tell her I am certain she will rejoice over my good 
fortune, more than anybody else. I would have written to 
her already, had I not been completely absorbed in the 
pleasure of looking at my son. I tear myself from him, 
only to attend to the most indispensable duties. This 
evening I will discharge the most delightful duty of all ; 
I will write to Josephine.' " 

LXXXII. 

Napoleon redeemed his pledge, and the evening after 
Eugene arrived at the chateau, the folding-doors were 
tlirown open with the announcement — " from the Emperor," 
and one of his own pages entered with a letter. After re- 
tiring to a private room for half an h-^ur, she returned, and 
showed it to her ladies of honor, and with a letter in one 
hand she said, " this for the Emperor,-' and presenting, in a 
small case, a jewel which cost five thousand francs, with the 
other, " this for yourself." To demonstrate how nobly Jo- 
sephine wished to act her difficult part, she wrote a long and 
generous letter to Maria Louisa, every word of which we 
would quote, if we could give the space. A single passage 
onl}^— 

" Madam, — While you were only the second wife of the 
Emperor, I deemed it becoming to maintain silence to your 
Majesty : but that reserve I think may now be laid aside, 
since you have '^9come mother to an heir of the Empiro. 



JOSEPHINE'S LETTER TO MARIA LOUISA. 307 

(You might have had some difficulty in crediting the sincerity 
of one, whom perhaps you regarded as a rival ; but you will 
giv^e faith to the congratulations of a French woman, for you 
have bestowed a son upon France. Your amiability and 
sweetness of disposition have won for you the heart of the 
Emperor ; your benevolence merits for you the blessings of 
the unfortunate ; the birth of a son claims the benediction 
of all France. * * Under our kings the French were satis- 
fied with repose — now they demand glory. These, Madam, 
are the two blessings, the foretaste of which you have been 
called to give to France. She will enjoy them in perfection 
ander your son, if to the manly virtues of his Sire he join 
those of his august mother, by which they may be tempered." 
But Maria Louisa had not been munificently enough en- 
dowed by nature, even to understand the motives of Jo- 
sephine ; much less to act on such high and noble impulses. 

LXXXIII. 

We might prolong our sketches of this beguiling subject, 
for an entire volume ; but we must bring them to a close. 
The birth of an heir, which seemed for a time to place the 
seal of perpetuity upon the dynasty he had founded, cast but 
a transient glow over Napoleon's crumbling Empire. It 
was fast sinking in the waves of a counter revolution. Jo- 
sephine's suspense for the fate of the man she loved so well, 
was suddenly ended by the arrival of a letter from the Em- 
peror, at Fontainbleau, dated April 14, in which he says— 
'My head and spirit are freed from an enormous weight. 
My fall is great, but at least it will be useful, as men say. 
In my retreat, I shall substitute the pen for the sword. The 
history of my reign will be curious. The world has yet 
seen me only in profile — I shall show myself in full. How 
many things I shall have to disclose. * * They have all be- 



808 EMPRESS JOSEPHINi:. 

trayed me — yes, all. I except from this number, the good 
Eugene, so worthy of you and me. Adieu, my dear Jo- 
sephine. Be resigned as I am ; and ever remember him who 
never forgot, and never will forget you. 

" Farewell, Josephine. " Napoleon. 

" P. S. I expect to hear from you at Elba. I am not 
very well." 

It is not strange that the ancient pliilosophers, without 
the guidance of inspired light, when they watched the ebb 
and flow of empires and their chieftains, (if antiquity fur- 
nished- anything like this), should have said, " the gods are 
just." In all history, we know of no spectacle more touch- 
ing than the sight of this dethroned Emperor, sending his 
wayward but stricken heart to Malmaison, when he had 
been deserted by his proud Hapsburg Princess, in whose 
union he fondly dreamed of giving endurance to his 
empire. 

" I cannot stay here," exclaimed Josephine in grief and 
consternation, when she learned that Napoleon had fallen 
" My presence now is necessary to the Emperor. Maria 
Louisa ought to be there, but she has fled. Now I can 
resume my old place — the Emperor is alone, forsaken — I at 
least will not abandon him. He could dispense. Avith me 
while he was happy ; but now I know he expects me." 
This she said to Beaumont, her chamberlain ; but after a 
moment's hesitation, she continued — '^I may interfere with 
his arrangements. You will remain with me. till intelli- 
gence is received from the Allied Sovereigns — the}^ cannot 
but, respect her who was once the wife of Napoleon." We 
should have remarked that Josephine had hastened to Paris 
the moment she heard of the advance of the allied armies ; 
and now she was prepared for any emergency. They entered 
Paris ; and the Emperor Alexander immediately sent a re- 



HER DESIRE TO JOIN NAPOLEON AT ELBA. 8C9 

quest to Josephine, that she would " retire for safety to 
^lalnjaison, where her person and her fortune sliould be 
respected." She did ; and, although few demonstrations of 
respect to Napoleon's genius or feelings were shown by the 
Allies, while Paris lay at the feet of the Cossacks, still 
Josephine's person and fortunes u-ere sacredly respected. 

Lxxxiy. 

Josephine again returned to Malmaison, and it was fre- 
quented by the most illustrious of the allied princes and 
chieftains. The Emperor of Russia was one of the first 
visitors. " Madame," he said, " I was impatient to behold 
you. From the moment I crossed the frontier of France, 
I have heard benedictions on your name. In the cottage, 
and in the palace, I have listened to many accounts of your 
angelic goodness ; and I am proud to have the pleasure of 
presenting to your Majesty the universal hcmage of which I 
am the bearer." Even the Bourbons themselves were com- 
pelled to pay some tributes of respect to this unparalleled 
woman ; and old Louis not only received her children with 
kindness, but requested that Josephine might be presented 
at his Court. 

LXXXV. 

Nothing, however, could diminish her affection for Napo- 
leon, nor her sympathy for him,Jn the mjdst of his tremen- 
dous misfortunes. Again she wrote to him at Elba, and 
said — "Sire, — Now only can I calculate the whole extent 
of the misfortune of having beheld my union with you dis- 
solved by law ; now do I indeed lament that I am no more 
than your friend — that I can only mourn over so great a 
misfortune. It is not the loss of a throne that I sorrow for, 
on your account, for I km w how such a loss can be endured ; 



310 EMPRESS JOSEPHIXE. 

but my heart sinks at the grief you must have felt in sepa« 
rating from the veteran companions of your glory. * * 
You will also have to mourn over the ingratitude and de« 
sertion of friends, on whom you thought you could rely 
Ah! Sire, why cannot I fly to you? I have been on the 
point of quitting France to follow your footsteps, and conse- 
crate to you the remainder of the life which you so lon^^ 
embellished. One motive alone restrains me, and that yoi; 
can divine. If you tell me, however, that contrary to all 
appearances, I am the only one who will fulfill her duty, 
nothing shall stop me, and I will go to the only place on the 
earth where I can hereafter be happy, and console you in 
the midst of your desolation. Say but the word, and I 
depart. Adieu, Sire ! Whatever I would add would still be 
too little. It is no longer by words, that my sentiments for 
you are to be proved ; and for actions, your consent is neces- 
sary. Malmaison has been respected ; I am therefore sur- 
rounded with attentions by foreign sovereigns, but I had 
much rather not remain." 

LXXXVI. 

But the troubled scenes Josephine had been called to pass 
through, had finally broken the gossamer web of her ethe- 
real life, and the dark wing of death began to cast its 
shadow over the beloved Empress. One circumstance which 
should not be forgotten, had not a little to do in quenching 
the light of her glorious life. With the same unutterable 
meanness and dishonesty, with which the restored Bourbons 
bad withheld the pittance they had promised to Napoleon, 
they now denied to Josephine the pension they had pledged 
themselves to pay, and having expended with the mosl 
generous liberality her income for the good of others, she 
now found herself in great embarrassment. If there were 



HER LAST ILLNESS. 811 

an obligation that a Bourbon would hold sacred, it would 
seem that it should have been this. But Heaven put the 
stamp of plebiai^ meanness upon that race when he made 
them, and nothing can wipe it out. They have generally 
been, in all countries and in all periods, cowardly, and 
perfidious men. Josephine could not endure this last 
mortification. She saw that her life would soon end, and 
having estates which she wished to dispose of, in a manner 
that would be gratifying to the feelings of Napoleon, she 
made her will, and sent a draft of it to him at Elba. ** Make 
your remarks. Sire," she said ; " you cannot doubt they will 
be held sacred by me, or that I rejoice in this opportunity 
of showing my devotion at a time when all others have 
deserted you." But if the draft was ever returned, it came 
too late, and the remorseless grasp of the greedy Bourbons, 
seized upon her property, and left her loved retainers, whom 
she had intended to reward, helpless and destitute on the 
world. But slow as the years went by, there was at that 
hour an exiled boy, the grandson of Josephine, who was at 
a later day to hold this same bitter chalice to the lips of the 
Bourbons. 

LXXXVII. 

On the 4th of May, Josephine dined at St. Leu, with 
her children and the Emperor of Russia. On returning to 
Malmaison, she experienced some symptoms of illness which 
alarmed her friends. But she rallied once more, and six 
days later, Alexander dined with her at her own chateau. 
The next day, Josephine was worse ; but her resolution still 
held out, and as late as the 24th of the month, she again en- 
tertained the Emperor of Russia, and King of Prussia, with 
their suites. But she was obliged to leave the banquet-hall, 
and Hortense took her seat at the table. The next morning, 
her disease, which was an acute inflammation of the throat, 



312 EMPRESS JOSEPHINE. 

manifested such alarming symptoms, that during a visit from 
Alexander, he requested permission to send his own phy- 
sician to attend her. Thit, however, was declined. She 
was surrounded by the most eminent medical men in France, 
and whatever human skill could do for her, was done. She 
knew that she was in danger, and she was certain that she 
could not live long ; but she preserved her cheerfulness 
until the last moment; and even on the 27th, when Re- 
doubte, the celebrated flower-painter, came to draw two 
favorite exotics, that had just bloomed, she was silent for a 
moment, and, then waved him away, saying, " You must not 
catch my sore throat, for next' week I hope to see you ad- 
vanced in one of your superb master-pieces." At ten o'clock, 
on the morning of the 28th, ihe physicians rose from their 
council, and decided that it was their duty to inform Eugene 
and Hortense, that their mother was dying. They heard 
the announcement with unutterable grief; but Josephine 
received it from their lips, with the most sublime resigna- 
tion. She sent for the parish clergyman of Ruel,'who was 
the preceptor of her grand-children, to administer to her the 
last consolations of the Christian faith. Late on the same 
evening, the Emperor Alexander arrived, and was admitted 
to the chamber of the sufferer. Eugene and Hortense 
were kneeling by the bed-side. Josephine rallied her last 
strength, and beckoned to them all to approach. " At 
least," she faintly pronounced, " I shall die regretted — T 
have always desired the happiness, of France — ^^I did all I 
could to contribute to it — and I can say with truth to you 
all, in my last moments, that the first wife of Napoleon, 
never caused a tear to fall." A radiant glory overspread 
her beautiful features, as she gently glided away to the land 
of peace. She still breathed, till the following morning — 
her slumber being disturbed only by sighs so gentle they 



Josephine's fuxeral. 313 

scarcely indicated pain — when her spirit left the world 
forever. "• 

Every preparation Avhich affection or respect could dic- 
tate, was now made for the last scenes her ashes were to 
witness on earth. At five o'clock in the afternoon of the 
2d of June, 1814, the body, which had been embalmed, and 
been visited while it lay in state by upwards of twenty 
thousand of the people of France, was followed to the grave 
by a procession of two thousand of the poor, who had lived 
on her bounty, and cherished her memory now that she was 
dead, and then consigned to its final repose in the humble 
village church of Ruel. To obtain even the favor of sleep- 
ing within the sacred inclosures of a consecrated church, 
had required the interposition of the most powerful person- 
ages of Europe ; for the last insult the Bourbons dared to 
offer to this peerless and glorious woman, was to deny her 
a Christian burial. But what " the most Catholic" tyrant 
of France would not grant, a Cossack Emperor demanded. 

The road to the church was lined by the Russian hussars, 
with the Old Guards of Napoleon, princes and marshals, and 
rows of soldiers marched with the procession, and showed 
every token of respect to the illustrious dead. The funeral 
oration was pronounced by the Archbishop of Tours ; and 
while the prayers were being read, and the angelic virtues 
of the deceased were being recounted by the orator, some 
of Napoleon's worn and scarred veterans were melted to 
tears. Poor Queen Hortense, who could not endure tho 
sight, had been conveyed to one of the side chapels ; and 
when the ceremonies Avere over, and the coffin had been 
laid in the grave, and the church was deserted, she turned, 
and heard the step of her brother, the Viceroy of Italy. 
'J hey met. and knelt in tears over the ashes of their mother. 

Soon after, with filial affection, thev asked from the Eour- 



814 EllPRESS JOSEPHINE. 

l)ons what even the Bourbons could not deny — the privilege 
of erecting a memorial over the grave which jDore the simple 
inscription — 

Eugene and Hortensb 

TO 

Josephine. 

And thither, for a generation, have the brave and the good 
gone, as to a shrine of pious and generous meditation — • 
and for ages to come, the spot will be sacred to all the 
brave and the good. 



«00K IV 



. MAEIA LOUISA. 

Bom at Vienna, December 12, ±791 ; Died at Parma, De- 
cember 15, 1847. 




MARIA LOUISA. 



msk 



MARIA LOUISA. 



I. 



The patli of History leads us from the grave of JosepL.ne, 
ia the little church of Ruel, to the Imperial Palace of Vienna, 
•where Maria Louisa, the successor of Josephine, was born. 
Whatever we deem nocassary to record of her history can 
be very briefly stated. Preceding portions of this work 
will already have prepared the reader for a record of little 
interest, so far as Maria Louisa was concerned, in the for- 
tunes of Napoleon. She was the eldest daughter of Francis 
11. , Emperor of Austria, and Maria Theresa, daughter of 
Ferdinand I Y., King of Naples. She was descended from 
Henry IV., King of France, through Phillip, Duke of Or- 
leans, second son of Louis XIIL, and Elizabeth of Orleans, 
who married Leopold, Duke of Lorraine. She was educated 
with all the care which the Hapsburg House have been 
accustomed to bestow upon their children. At an early age 
she had made great progress in painting, music, and other 
accomplishments, and at the time of her marriage she was 
conversant with several foreign languages. 

n. 

Her portrait at this period is drawn by Benjamin Con- 
tant, in the following words : — " The Empress Maria Louisa 
was nineteen years of age when she married Napoleon. 
Her hair was of a light color, her eyes blue and expressive, 
her walk noble, and her figure imposing. Her hands and 
feet were beautifully formed, and might have served for 



318 MARIA LOUISA. 

models. Healtli}' hues and a florid complexion were joined 
to great timidity ; the latter occasioned the Empress to 
appear haughty before the ladies of the court, but in private 
she was amiable and even affectionate." When the union 
with Nanoleon was proposed to her, she manifested the most 
decided repugnance, and said that she considered herself a 
" victim devoted to the Minotaur ;" — but she yielded passive 
obedience to the wishes of her family and the commands of 
her father. Alexander of Russia had shown so much par- 
tiality for Napoleon, and had, in fact, conceived so romantic 
an attachment for the young Conqueror, that the latter had 
first opened negotiations with Alexander's sister, though she 
had not yet attained the age of womanhood. The Empress- 
mother had, however, interposed several objections. She 
insisted that her daughter should have a chapel in Paris, 
where the services and ceremonies of the Greek Church 
should be celebrated by Greek priests. The negotiation 
was thus for a considerable period prolonged, and Napoleon 
at last growing weary of those " peurile conditions," as he 
termed them, and half-suspecting that the obstacles inter- 
posed were owing to some secret objections against the 
union, finally fixed a period of ten days, at the end of which, 
if a favorable answer were not returned, he should end the 
negotiation. When the ten days had passed, he instructed 
Maret, Minister of Foreign Affairs, to sound Prince Schwgirtz- 
enburg, the Austrian Ambassador, on a union with a Prin 
cess of the House of Hapsburg-Lorraine. The advances of 
Napoleon were eagerly met by the Austrian Minister, and 
the preliminaries so quickly settled, that the marriage-con 
tract was signed at Paris the Tth and at Vienna the 16th 
of February, [1810]. On the 11th of March— less than a 
month afterwards — the marriage was celebrated at Vienna 
with great pomp. Marshal Berthier acting for Napoleon, 



JOURNEY OF MARIA LOUISA TO PARIS. 319 

deman led the hand of the Archduchess, and the Archduke 
Charles, her uncle, stood as proxy for Napoleon. 

III. 

The ceremonies preliminary to the final marriage, were 
celebrated at Vienna with the greatest splendor the Empire 
could give — the departure of the Princess for the Capital of 
France being arranged for the following day. She was to 
proceed to Braunau on the frontiers of Austria and Bavaria, 
and there await the escort which Napoleon was to provide. 
So too, the ladies of honor, who had been sent forward from 
Paris, with the French Chevalier, Marshal Berthier — a mag- 
nificent retinue waited to receive her. This ceremony took 
place in a small house, which had been built for the occasion, 
near the spot. It was divided into three apartments — the 
Austrian, the French, and one between called the Neutral 
Room. The G-rand Duchess arrived at Althiem — a village 
near by, on the morning of the 16th of March ; where the 
French escort had already arrived. The delicate, but ex- 
tremely stiff formalities of this- occasion had been honored 
by the graces and charms of Caroline, the Queen of Naples, 
(Napoleon's sister, and Murat's wife), the Duchess of Monti- 
bello, the Countesses of Montmartre, Boueille, Lucay, and 
Montmorenci, the Bishop of Metz, the Count Beauharnais, 
the Chevalier of Honor, the Prince Borghese, and a vast 
number of other personages, for whose fame in the achieve- 
ments of the Empire, or for their high position or elegance 
of manner. Napoleon had chosen, to embellish the occasion. 

IV. 

Hazlitt, who has written so charming a life of Napoleon, 
relates an incident which happened at the time ; and as it is 
reallj one of the most important events that ever occurrea 



820 MARIA LOUISA. 

ill the liisLorj of Maria Loiiiya, we feel bound to speak of it, 
for we have with some perseverance surveyed a very liberal 
ran^e of French, English, German, Spanish and Italian 
literature, without being able to discover anything of the 
slightest importance to mankind or the history of the times 
in the life of this Imperial personage. 

Monsieur de Beauset, the Prefect of Napoleon's palace, 
seems to have been, from all accounts, very ready and 
anxious to oblige everybody he could. As a matter of 
course, the French escort were eager to set their eyes upon 
the Archduchess ; and it will never be doubted by our 
readers, or anybody else, that the beautiful and brilliant 
women of the French Court, in that cortege, were dying 
with curiosity to catch a glimpse of the youthful sovereign 
who was soon to preside over the courtly scenes of the Napo- 
leon Empire. Therefore, the good Beauset bored a number of 
holes in the thin wooden partition, that separated them from 
the Austrian Court, where Maria Louisa, in her unconscious 
beauty, was standing on the throne prepared for her, going 
through the ceremonies, to which she was carefully trained, 
as danseurs are before they appear on the boards of the Opera. 
Hazlitt says, that " Her person was tall and graayeful, her 
hair flaxen, her eyes blue, expressive of happiness and 
innocence, and her whole visage proved the goodness of her 
disposition. She had on a robe of gold tissue, ornamented 
with rich flowers, and around her neck the miniature picture 
of Napoleon, encircled with diamonds, of immense value. 
She was surrounded by the highest persons of her Court, 
ranged on her right and left, according to their rank, and 
by the Hungarian officers, in their rich and handsome 
uniform." So much for the first sight of this personage, as 
related to us on the authority of Mr. Hazlitt, which we pre- 
sume was obtained directly from those who had the honor 



INCIDENTS OF THE JOURNEY. 321 

of holding their eyes to the auger-holes made in the partition 
that separated the Archduchess from the impatient dames 
of the Imperial Court of the Empire of Napoleon. 



It was well, perhaps, since Napoleon divorced Josephine 
and espoused the past, with the souvenirs of the Middle 
Ages, to mimic the etiquette of the courts of those little 
tyrants that had flourished for so many generations ; and 
consequently — since, whenever he attempted to do anything 
he did it thoroughly — we are not surprised that he should 
have drawn up beforehand instructions for all the details of 
the journey of the Archduchess from Vienna to Paris, with 
as much care as if he had been marking out the campaign 
of Russia. 

These instructions of the Emperor extend over a conside-^ 
rable number of pages, and to each movement of the Arch- 
duchess he seemed to attach as much importance, as to a 
charge by Ney or Lannes at the battle of Austerlitz. The 
ceremonial, however, was complied with as prescribed, with 
the same fidelity as all the other orders of Napoleon. When 
the Archduchess arrived at Braunau, and the cortege was 
preparing to advance over the French frontier, she ex- 
changed her German dress for one in the French fashion — 
received the oath of fidelity from all her attendants — dined 
with the Queen of Naples and Madame Lazanski — received 
the last farewell of the personages of the Court of Vienna, 
and set out for Munich. Here, from sheer indisposition 
even to take the trouble of tracing the progress of this 
imperial cortege, we shall allow Mr. Hazlitt, who has 
finished up every detail of it with the care of a miniature 
painter, to speak :— " She was met by the Baron St. Aignan, 
equerry to Napoleon, who brought her a letter from the 



S22 MARIA LOUISA. 

Emperor. At Municli she was obliged to part with the 
Countess Lazansld, who had been her governess, and to 
whom she was much attached. So many mischiefs had 
arisen from allowing early advisers to accompany youthful 
princesses into foreign countries — that the practice was 
given up as dangerous. On setting her foot on the soil of 
France the Empress was hailed as the Aurora of a brighter 
day, of a new age of gold. At Strasbourg she was met by 
a page of the Emperor, who brought a letter, the choicest 
flowers of the season, and some pheasants of his own shoot- 
ing." [We never had heard before that his fire-arms had 
ever been used for such harmless purposes.] 

VI. 

The cavalcade passed through Nancy, Yittoire, Chalons, 
and Rhiems, and were to have stopped at Soissons for the 
night, according to a formula fairly penned, and exactly 
setting down the interview for the morrow. But the impa- 
tience of Napoleon, who was growing as amorous as a boy 
of fifteen, disconcerted all his own fine schemes, and cut 
short the ceremony. The escort was ordered to Compiegne ; 
and. Napoleon, putting on his gray-coat and stealing out of 
the park gate, with the King of Naples, hastened to meet 
his betrothed bride. He passed through Soissons, and as 
the carriage in which Maria Lonisa was, drew up to change 
horses at the village of Courcelles, he flew to the coach 
door, opened it himself, and the Queen of Naples saying 
" It is the Emperor," he threw himself on the Empress's 
neck, who was unprepared for this abrupt and romantic 
meeting, and the carriage was ordered on with all speed to 
Compiegne, where it arrived at ten the same evening. The 
rejoicings and congratulations on her arrival were univer- 
sal ; the city of Paris made costly presents to the Emperor 



FF^ AfEETTVG WITH NAPOLEON. 328 

and Empress ; the procession at the public marriage, passed 
from St. Cloud to the Tuilleries, and through the great gal- 
lery of the Louvre, which was lined on each side with a 
triple 1 ow of all that was most distinguished in France, or 
nearly in Europe. On the 27th of April, the Emperor and 
Empress set out on a tour through the northern Departments 
to give the good city of Paris time to breathe. Dances, 
garlands of flowers, triumphal arches welcomed them all the 
way. On one of these last, at a small hamlet [to show how 
easily enthusiasm runs up into superstition,] was inscribed 
in front, Pater JYoster ; and on the reverse side, Ave Maria, 
plena gratw ! The curate and mayor of so loyal and pious a 
village did not of course go empty-handed away. 

VI. 

Maria Louisa, it was stated, on good authority, was far 
from being displeased with the demonstrations of impetuous 
love which the Hero of Marengo had displayed in the car- 
riage, and her only reproof was, " The portrait of your 
Majesty, which was given to me, does you justice by no 
means." A pretty little incident, however, happened when 
the Empress entered the Palace of the Tuilleries. As Ber- 
thier, the Imperial Commissioner, entered her apartment, to 
conduct her to the carriage which was to bear her to France, 
he found her bathed in tears. " My conduct may seem 
childish," she said, " but this must be my excuse ;" and, 
pointing to the various articles of art and taste which 
adorned her apartment, her birds and dog, she spoke of 
them as the cherished tokens of love from her different 
friends. This hint was enough for any man that Napoleon 
would confide such a commission as that to ; and, conse- 
quently, when her husband received her in the court-yard of 
the Tuilleries, and conducted her through a dark passage, 



824 MARIA LOUISA. 

lighted only by a single lamp, and slie said, " Where are 
you going V^ " Come, come," was the Emperor's reply ; 
" certainly, you are not afraid to follow me !" At the end 
of the corridor, the Emperor threw open a cabinet. The 
blaze of light dazzled her, but when she recovered, she found 
herself in a room fitted up in the same .style, with the very 
articles of furniture she had left in tears at Vienna. Even 
the poodle-dog was there, to greet its regal mistress, with a 
joyous bark. Overcome with pleasure and gratitude she 
threw herself into Napoleon's arms ; and she often remarked 
that it was the happiest moment of her life. 

On the first of April, amidst the most enthusiastic re- 
joicings of the nation, the civil marriage took place, and 
the next day Cardinal Fesch, with all the pomp and splen- 
dor of the Roman Church, gave the benediction to the Im- 
perial pair. The train of Maria Louisa was borne by four 
Queens. All the Great Dignitaries of state were present. 
The Marshals of the Empire in their glittering uniforms, the 
ladies of the Court superbly attired, their beauty enhanced 
by the most artistic skill in dress ; with the gorgeous 
habiliaments of the priesthood, rendered the pageant one 
of the most imposing, as well as the coldest spectacle Na- 
poleon himself had witnessed since the passage of the Great 
St. Bernard. 

VII. 

Napoleon endeavored to impress upon the mind of Maria 
Louisa something of the grandeur of his Empire, by the 
sight of his public works then in progress. Halting at 
Cherbourg, he showed her the great dock just completed, 
capable of holding fifty of the largest ships of the line, and 
her foot was the last to press their foundations befor<i the 
waters of the ocean were let in. Everywhere the people 
received her with acclamation, but their shouts were not so 



BIRTH OF THE KING OF ROME, S25 

glad and joyous as those which had greeted the arrival of 
Josephine. Her cold manner was so different from the 
winning smile of the preceding Empress, that it chilled the 
hearts of those who approached her, and it was but the re- 
flection of the pride which the French people felt in the 
Emperor, that cast a halo around her progress. Josephine's 
unchanging benevolence endeared her to every heart. All 
that was generous and noble in national sentiment, all that 
was great and glorious in national honor, all that was pro- 
gressive in science, flourished under the inspiring influence 
of her reign. In Maria Louisa the courtiers had an Era- 
press, but the people of France had no longer a mother. 
The apparent enthusiasm soon subsided, and many who had 
deserted Josephine when the star of her fortune began to 
wane, hastened to return, certain of meeting with the pardon 
which they did not deserve." 

VIII. 

The eventful day which to all appearance was to crown 
the ambition of Napoleon, had come. On the 20th of March, 
1811, Maria Louisa gave birth to the King of Rome. Du- 
bois, the celebrated accoucher, who was attending the Em- 
press, and awaiting the result with the most painful anxiety, 
rushed into the apartment of Napoleon, and asked, " Which 
shall I save, the mother or the child V' " The mother," said 
the Emperor; "it is her right." But the skill of Dubois 
saved both. So great was the delight of the Parisians, when 
the announcement of the birth of the King of Rome was 
made, that a French writer says, " they embraced and kissed 
each other in the streets — grasped each other's hands, as if a 
child was born to each one." 

There is little to be said of Maria Louisa as Empress of 
the Froncli. In public, she maintained her imperial state 



826 MARIA LOUISA. 

with dignity, and in private she relaxed hei frigid manners, 
and even at times appeared amiable. From 1810 to 1814 
her life was what it had always been — one of inactivity — if 
we except two occasions, when she was appointed Empress 
Eegent of France. The first was when Napoleon started 
on his Russian campaign, ri4th of April, 1813]. 

We have already described the scene which attended the 
departure for Russia, when the Emperor confided his wife 
and child to the officers of the National Guard. Nor need 
we again recount that terrible series of disasters whicli 
ended in the destruction of the Grand Army, and the ad- 
vance of the Allies on Paris. Their head-quarters had been 
established on the heights of Montmatre. On the morning 
of the 29th of March, the Russians advanced on the wood of 
Yincennes, and the reverberations of their cannon carried 
dismay into the hearts of the Regent Government at Paris. 

Its members assembled, and resolved on withdrawing be- 
yond the Loire, and Maria Louisa and her son fled with 
them from the Capital. They took the road to Tours. The 
1st of April she received dispatches from Napoleon directing 
her to establish the seat of government at Blois. Repairing 
immediately to that town, she enforced the orders of her 
husband for the active recruiting of the army, and on the 3r' 
she issued the following proclamation : — "Frenchmen! tht; 
events of war have placed the capitaHn the power of the 
stranger. The Emperor hastening to its defence is at the 
head of his armies so often victorious. They are in presence 
of the enemy, under the walls of Paris. You will be faithful 
to your oaths — You will listen to the voice of a Princess 
who has been confided to your loyalty, who glories in being 
called a French woman, and in being associated to the 
destinies of a Sovereign whom you yourselves have chosen 
with entire free will.. ...My , son was not the less sure of your 



LAST DAYS OF MAKIA LOUISA. 827 

hearts in tlie daj^s of your prosperity : his rigL rs and person 
are under your safeguard." But the restoration was in- 
evitable. 

XI. 

The Empire of Napoleon had fallen, and the Allied Armies 
with their irresistible phalanxes had again forced upon the 
French people a Bourbon King. The Treaty of Fontain- 
bleau, [11th of April, 1814], settled for life the title of 
Emperor on Napoleon, and Empress on Maria Louisa. The 
Island of Elba was given in full sovereignty to Napoleon, 
with a pension of two millions of francs, half of which was 
to be in reversion to Maria Louisa, on whom the Duchies 
of Parma, Piacenza, and Guastella, were conferred. Al 
though the Baron Capiigue, tells a story about Maria 
Louisa attempting, on the 19th of March, 1815, to escape 
with her son from the Castle of Schoenbrunn, to rejoin her 
husband after his return from Elba — sober history, however, 
gives no credence to this piece of romance. 

This ridiculous report was started by Metternich, who 
conceived it necessary the first moment he heard of the 
return of Napoleon from Elba, and that he was advancing 
triumphantly to Paris, to seize his son, and make him a 
prisoner for life. Metternich and the Allied Sovereigns 
and diplomatists knew that they were safe from subsequent 
revolutions no longer than Napoleon and his son were in 
their hands. His mother was conveyed to the imperial 
palace, and the French governess of the King of Rome gave 
place to a German woman. Under the pretext of preventing 
another attempt at escape, Maria Louisa was also herself 
closely guarded. On the 14th of September, she signed a 
paper by which she renounced for herself and her child the 
title of Majesty, and all claims whatever to the crown of 
France. She was thereafter to take the title of Arch* 



328 MARIA LOUISA. 

duchess of Austria, and Duchess of Parma, and her son was 
to be called Hereditary Prince of Parma. 

On the 22d of July, 1818, the Emperor of Austria con- 
ferred on his pale little prisoner and grand-child, the title 
of Duke of Reichstadt, with that of Serene Highness. 
Thus the mother who bore him went into perpetual exile in 
the narrow territory which Austria had stolen from Tuscany. 

X. 

Maria Louisa was doubtless glad to escape from the 
oppressive splendor of a brilliant career. She Avas born as 
Lamartine well says, to adorn obscurity. We should be 
glad since her ashes have long years ago mouldered in the 
charnel-house, if we could exempt her memory from the dis- 
graceful indulgences and obscenities of too many of the 
royal palaces of Europe. Contracting, not long after her 
flight from France, a wicked and lascivious connection with 
a German soldier, she became the mother of several, children 
who were recognized as the sons of Count Neiperg, but the 
whole aiTair was attended with such scandal, that the pater- 
nity of her children has always been considered doubtful. 
Intrigue after intrigue disgraced her name. Even her sub- 
jects pronounced the words " Maria Louisa " with unutter- 
able disgust and scorn. 

Thus she went darkling down to an infamous grave. - His- 
tory has left no record of a female sovereign less beloved 
from the time of Theodosia. Where she was buried we do 
not know. She was born a Bourbon, and she died a Bour- 
bon, and her memory has settled into oblivion. We have 
only disturbed it in this book, for the purpose of complying 
with the claims of history, which seemed to demand that 
llio second wife of the Einpei'Ot' should bo at least alluded to. 



BOOK V 



JOSEPH BOIAPAETE. 

Born at Corte, in Corsica, January 7, 1768 ; Died at Florence, 
July 28. 1844. 




JOSEPH BONAPARTE. 



JOSEPH BONAPARTE. 



Joseph, tlie elder brother of Napoleon, was "born the year 
previous to the subjugation of his native island to France : 
but he was not excelled by either of his brothers in his 
attachment to the French nation, and his zeal in the public 
service in the various stations confided to him. When he 
was ten years of age, his father took him to France, and 
placed him and his brother Napoleon at the College of 
Autun, in Burgundy, where he completed his course of 
studies with great distinction. His own predilections were 
in favor of a military life, but in obedience to the last wishes 
of his father, he abandoned these views, and returned in 
1785, to his native country. In February of that year, 
Joseph accompanied his father, and his uncle, the young 
Abbe Fesch, to Montpelier, in search of medical advice, and 
had the consolation of attending at the bed-side of his dying 
parent. He acquitted himself of the sad duty reserved for 
him, with all the zeal of an affectionate son. 

II. 

Continuing to reside with his mother and her family 
at Ajaccio, Joseph applied himself to the study of the law 
and prepared himself for public duties. When the mighty 
era of 1789 dawned, he embraced the cause of the Revo 
lution with ardor, the Bonaparte brothers being among its 
most eager partisans. In 1792, Joseph received an appoint- 
ment in the civil service of the Departmental Administration. 



332 JOSEPH BOXAPARTE. 

under tlie Presidency of Paoli, and was enabled to assist 

his mother in the maintenance of the family. The following 

year, Corsica, influenced by Paoli, renounced France, and 

the Bonapartes separated from the former friends of their 

father. The family were compelled to flee from the island, 

and took up their residence at Marseilles. Joseph soon 

received an appointment as Commissary of War, and was 

again enabled to aid his mother in supplying her pecuniary 

wants. 

III. 

In 1794, Joseph married Julie Clary, daughter of one 
of the wealthiest capitalists of Marseilles, and with her 
received a considerable fortune. Her sister married Ber- 
nadotte, afterwards King of Sweden, and became the mother 
of Oscar, the present King. The sisters were remarkable 
for their personal beauty, and were much esteemed through 
life for their amiable character, exhibited in every vicissi- 
tude. Madame Junot says — " Madame Joseph Bonaparte 
is an angel of goodness. Pronounce her name, and all the 
indigent, all the unfortunate in Paris, Naples, &c., will re- 
peat it with blessings. Never did she hesitate a moment to 
set about what she conceived to be her duty. Accordingly, 
Madame de Surviellers, (the title assumed by Joseph and 
herself in exile), is adored by all about her, and especially 
by her own household ; her unalterable kindness, her active 
charity, gain her the love of everybody, and in the land of 
exile she has found a second country. She was fondly at 
tached to her sister, the Queen of Sweden. The latter is aj 
excellent, inoffensive creature, prodigiously fond of every 
thing melancholy and romantic. She had very fine eyes 
and a most pleasing smile." 



JOSEPH WITH NAPOLEON IN ITALY. 333 

IV. 

The English having taken possession of Corsica, Joseph 
united with some of his countrymen, in urgent entreaties to 
the French Government for the supplies and troops requisite 
to reconquer the island ; but it was only after the occupation 
of Italy by the French army, in 1796, that their wishes were 
crowned with success. On the downfall of Robespierre, in 
July, 1794, the Bonaparte brothers were unjustly proscribed 
for a short time, upon imputations the most frivolous and 
groundless. Napoleon and Lucien were arrested, and Jo- 
seph saved himself by a temporary retirement to Genoa. In 
this extremity of their fortunes, Joseph became the prop and 
support of the family. His brothers were soon restored to 
liberty and public favor, and he returned to Marseilles. 

In 1796, Joseph, who had already filled a similar appoint- 
ment in the army of the Alps, was named a Commissary of 
War, under his brother in Italy, and accompanied Napoleon 
in that campaign. Circumstances rendering General Bona- 
parte anxious to conclude a Treaty of Peace with the King 
of Sardinia, he dispatched Joseph from Piedmont, to de- 
monstrate the necessity of this measure to the Directory. 
In this same year, Joseph, and in the following year Lucien, 
were both returned to the Council of Five Hundred, as 
representatives from the District of Liamone, in Corsica, 
from which Paoli had fled the second time. The election 
of the brothers was brought about by Lucien, who visited 
his native island temporarily for that purpose. 



Joseph had been appointed by the French Directory 
Minister Plenipotentiary, and afterwards Envoy Extra- 
ordinary to the Court of Rome, where he entered directly 
into a negotiation with Pope Pius YL, with the view of 



3M JOSEPH BONAPARTE. 

obtaining the good offices of the Pontiff in bringing about 
a peace with the Royalists of La Vendee. For that purpose 
the Pope engaged to employ all those means of authority 
and persuasion with which the confidence of the people of 
the revolted province had invested the visible head of the 
Catholic Church. This treaty was in progress, but the 
favorable dispositions of the Papal Court were counter- 
acted by the intrigues of the Austrian party, as well as by 
the imprudence of the young Republicans of Rome, who 
relied upon French countenance and support to enable them 
to effect a Revolution in the city, and on December 28, 1797, 
a few were shot by the soldiers of the Pope, in the court- 
yard of the Palace of the French Ambassador, where they 
had taken refuge. In this instance the sanctuary of the 
residence of envoys at Rome was violated, and Duphor, 
one of the French generals, in the suite of the Ambassador 
was killed at his side. This general was to have been mar- 
ried on the following morning to Eugenie Clary,-Joseph's 
sister-in-law, the object of Napoleon's first affections, and 
subsequently the wife of Bernadotte, King of Sweden. 

VI. 

Finding he could no longer remain at Rome without com- 
promising his official character, Joseph immediately de- 
manded his passports, and sent from Florence to' the 
Directory at Paris a relation of what had taken place. The 
Directory, through Talleyrand, expressed themselves well 
satisfied with " the courage, the judgment, and the presence 
of mind which he had shown on the trying occasion, and the 
magnanimity with which he had supported the honor of the 
French name." The Government then offered him the 
embassy to Prussia, but he preferred showing his gratitude 
for the confidence of his felloAV-citizens of Corsica, by enter 



JOSEPH IN THE COUNCIL OP FIVE HUNDRED, 835 

ing tlie legislatiye body of France, in their service. In 
January, 1798, he took his seat in the Council of Five Hun- 
dred. He was there soon distinguished for sound sense 
and moderation. On one occasion, when on a joint committee 
of the two Councils, the Directory made an attack upon 
Napoleon, who was absent in Egypt, Joseph addressed the 
body with so much energy and conclusive argument, that 
his accusers were confounded, and a unanimous vote was 
obtained in his favor. A few days after this occurrence, in 
June, 1798, he was appointed Secretary of the Council of 
Five Hundred. One who was well acquainted with him at 
the time, describes him as being " polite and affable ; of a 
cool and steady disposition ; sagacious, intrepid, and pecu- 
liarly qualified for civil and diplomatic employments.'^ 
Lucien says, that Joseph possessed the esteem and friend- 
ship of his colleagues, and it was supposed that, in concert 
with Lucien, he prepared the return of Napoleon from 
Egypt ; and it is certain that by his influence and personal 
exertions he contributed to the success of the Revolution of 
the 18th Brumaire, [9th November, 1799]. 

VII. 

Under the Consulate, Joseph was made a member of the 
Council of State, and in 1800 he was appointed by Napo- 
leon, with Messrs. Roederer and De Fleurien, Commissioners 
to conclude a Treaty of Peace and Commerce with the United 
States. The American Commissioners were Oliver Ells- 
worth, William Vans Murray and William R. Davie. The 
Treaty was signed, September 30th, 1800, at Mortefontainc, 
a villa which Joseph had recently purchased, and he gave 
on the occasion of the completion of the Treaty, a splendid 
entertainment to the American Ministers. 

The Treaty between France and the United States, satis- 



S3G JOSEPH BONAPARTE. 

factorilj settled differences between the two nations which 
had commenced under the Government of the Republic in 
1793, when Mr. Genet was sent to the United States, as 
Minister, and endeavored to involve this country in a war 
with England. It was natural that France should desire an 
ally in the United States, in the way in which she was en- 
gaged with other European powers ; but the American 
Government under Washington and Adams, steadily pre- 
served its neutrality toward the belligerent powers. Seizures 
of British property on board American vessels were ordered 
by the French Government, and many depredations on 
American commerce by French armed vessels took place. 
The conduct of the French Directory towards the United 
States was equally hostile with their predecessors of the 
Convention, and various decrees against neutrals and Ameri- 
can commerce were issued. Without an actual declaration 
of war, hostilities existed for some time on the ocean, be- 
tween the two nations. All attempts at negotiation had 
failed, until President Adams resolved to send a Special 
Commission, and the Envoys embarked in October, 1799. 
Before their arrival, the Revolution of the 18th Brumaire 
had occurred, and they found the Consular Government 
under Napoleon, anxious for peace. Talleyrand informed 
the Envoys that they were expected with impatience, and 
would be received with warmth. The-t;hree Commissioners 
were received by the First Consul in form, and, as we have 
stated, Joseph Bonaparte, Roederer and De Fleurien were 
appointed to treat with them. It was not, however, until 
the 2d of April, that the first conference was had, and 
various delays took place, which protracted the negotiations 
for nearly six months before their successful termination. 
The principles of this Treaty, as regarded the United States, 
formed the basis of a confederacy, offensive and defensive. 



TREATIES WITH AMERICA AND AUSTRIA. 337 

entered into between France and the northern powers in 
December, 1800, which was in fact the revival of the armed 
neutrality of 1780, and was in pursuance of the steadfast 
design, never after relinquished by Napoleon, of crushing 
the maritime supremacy of Great Britain. But the destruc- 
tion of the French navy counteracted his designs. Between 
France and the United States, the treaty, as one of mutual 
concessions, nominally remained good ; but the Berlin and 
Milan Decrees subsequently issued by Napoleon, in their 
effect upon American commerce, proved the counterpart of 
those of the Executive Directory. One of the Ameri- 
can Commissioners, (Judge Ellsworth), in a letter to Mr. 
Wolcott, dated Havre, October 16, 1800, thus writes : — 
" You will see our proceedings and their result. Be 
assured, more could not be done without too great a 
sacrifice, and as the reign of Jacobinism is over in France, 
and appearances are strong in favor of a general peace. 
I hope you will think it was better to sign than to do 
nothing." 

VIII. 

Having displayed much diplomatic skill in the negotia- 
tions with the United States, Joseph was placed on another 
similar commission. On the 9th of February, 1801, he 
signed, with the Count de Coberzel, at Luneville, the treaty 
between France and Austria ; and it has been remarked, as 
a singular circumstance during that negotiation, that al- 
though Mantua had been left in the hands of the Austrians, 
by virtue of an armistice agreed upon between the Com- 
manders-in-Chief in Italy, a convention concluded at Lune- 
ville. by the Plenipotentiaries, put the French army in posses- 
sion of that important post. General Moreau, the French 
Commander, in a letter to Joseph, says, " Receive my compli- 



338 JOSEPH BONAPARTE. 

merits for the manner in which you have besieged and taken 
Mantua, without quitting Luneville." 

The following year, Joseph met with the like success, in 
negotiating the Treaty of Amiens, by which peace was con- 
cluded between France and England, March 25, 1802. The 
First Consul, on this occasion, (says Thiers), "made choice 
of his brother Joseph, for whom he had a very particular 
affection, and who by the amenity of his manners and mild- 
ness of his character, was singularly well adapted for a 
peace-maker, an office which had been constantly reserved 
for him. Talleyrand, seeing all the ostensible honor of these 
treaties devolve upon a personage who was nearly unac- 
quainted with the arts of diplomacy, was unable to repress 
a passing sense of his vexation, though he made every effort 
to hide it. But the cautious minister well knew that it 
would be impolitic to make the family of the First Consul 
his enemies." 

It was agreed that the Plenipotentiaries should meet in 
the city of Amiens, an intermediate point between London 
and Paris, to draw up the definitive treaty. The English 
Cabinet selected, to meet Joseph, Lord Cornwallis, the same 
who had commanded their armies in America and India, and 
who had also been Governor-General of Bengal, and Lord 
Lieutenant of Ireland. The preliminaries had been nego- 
tiated by M. Otto and Lord Hawkesbury, and signed at 
London, on the 1st of October, 1801 ; and these different 
treaties which completed the peace of the world were signed 
nearly at the same time. The satisfaction of the public was 
unbounded, and grand festivals to celebrate the event were 
given in Paris and London, on the 18th Brumaire, [9th No- 
vember], 1801. 



TREATY OF AMIENS. 839 

IX. 

The preliminaries of London had laid down the basis of 
the peace ; but until the conclusion of a definitive treaty, 
apprehensions were entertained that the negotiations 
might be broken off. Lord Cornwallis arrived in Paris in 
November, and soon proceeded to Amiens. The negotia- 
tions being opened, the British Cabinet made new demands, 
with which they instructed Lord Cornwallis. Delays en- 
sued ; but the First Consul impressed fresh activity upon the 
Envoys. He wrote to his brother — " Sign, for since the pre- 
liminaries are agreed upon, there is no more any serious 
question to debate." He conceded what he thought should 
be conceded, and firmly refused the rest. After having sent 
his answer to his brother, with ample liberty as to the settle- 
ment, in regard to the manner of drawing up, he recom- 
mended Joseph to act with great prudence, in order to have 
a sufficient proof that the refusal to sign the peace came 
from England, and not from him. He caused it to be inti- 
mated, whether in London or at Amiens, that if they would 
not accept what he proposed, they ought to terminate the 
affair. A rupture was not wished for in London. The 
English Cabinet felt that they would be subject to the ridi- 
cule of the world, if a truce of six months, following the pre- 
liminaries, had only served to open the sea to the French 
fleets. Lord Cornwallis was highly conciliatory in the 
drawing up of the treaty. Joseph Bonaparte was not less so ; 
and on the 25th of March, 1802, the peace between France 
and Great Britain was signed (says Thiers,) " upon an in- 
strument marked with all sorts of corrections. The two 
Plenipotentiaries cordially embraced each other, amid the 
acclamations of those present, full of emotion and trans- 
ported with joy. Lord Cornwallis heard his name blessed 
by the French people, and Joseph entered his house, hearing 



340 JOSEPH BONAPARTE. 

on all sides the cry of *' Vive Bonaparte." Unfortunately, 
this peace, the most noble and most glorious for France 
that her annals can show, was but temporary. 

The renewal of the war between the two nations, took 
place in May, 1803. " How very different had their des- 
tinies been, if, as the First Consul said — "These two 
powers, the one maratime, and the other continental, had 
been in complete and perfect union, for the purpose of regu- 
lating in peace the interests of the universe. General 
civilization would have made more rapid strides ; their future 
independence would have been forever assured ; and the 
two nations would not have prepared a domination for the 
north over a divided west. Such was the melancholy ter- 
mination of the short peace of Amiens." 



Whilst engaged in diplomatic matters, Joseph was the 
first to suggest a plan of concert among the contracting par- 
ties, France, England, Spain and Holland, for the suppres- 
sion of that system of rapine and piracy, whereby, to the 
disgrace of the great powers of Christendom, the smaller 
European States were annoyed by the corsairs of Barbary. 
This liberal project was communicated in a letter to the 
First Consul, by whom it was adopted. 

When Napoleon desired, as the people afterwards willed, 
a prolongation of his power, by being made First Consul for 
.life, he did not discover the secret ambition of his heart to 
his brothers ; but it was so easy to guess, and his family 
were so anxious to bring it about successfully, that they 
spared him the trouble to be the first to declare it. They 
asserted to him that the moment was come in which to con- 
stitute himself something better than an ephemeral and 
fleeting power ; that he ought to think of attaching to him- 



NEGOTIATION OF THE CONCORDAT. 341 

self a solid and durable authority. Joseph, with the peace- 
able mildness of his character, and Lucien, with his natural 
petulance, openly urged the same point. They had for con 
fidants and co-operators, the men with whom they lived in 
intimacy, in the Council of State, or in the Senate. The 
amendment to the Consular Constitution having been 
adopted in 1802, an arrangement was devised to please the 
brothers of the First Consul by an introduction of a clause 
into the organic articles. The law of the Legion of Honor 
enacted that the members of the Grand Council of the Legion 
should be composed of three consuls, and one representative 
from each of the great bodies of the State. The Council of 
State nominated Joseph to this post, and the Tribunate 
named Lucien. A disposition of this Senatus Consulturn. 
declared that the members of the Grand Council of the Le- 
gion of Honor should be Senators by right. The two 
brothers of Napoleon were thus principals in that noble 
institution charged with the distribution of all the recom- 
penses, and, as members of the Senate, they of course 
possessed great influence in that body. 

XI. 

The Concordat with the Court of Rome was signed at 
the house of Joseph, on the 15th of July, 1801, by those 
whom the First Consul Imd designated as Plenipotentiaries, 
on the part of France, viz : — Joseph ; the Abbe Bernier, 
afterwards Bishop of Orleans ; and by the Minister of the 
Interior, Cretet. The Cardinals Gonsalvi, M. Spina, and 
Father Caselli, signed on behalf of the Pope. They met 
together informally at Joseph's residence, examined the 
documents, and concluded this great Treaty, the most im- 
portant that the Court of Rome had ever made with France, 
or perhaps with any Christian power ; because it terminated 



342 JOSEPH BONAPARTE. 

one of the most friglitful tempests that the Catholic religion 
had ever encountered. Nearly at the same time, the Treaty 
of Guarantee was signed with Austria, Russia, Prussia and 
Bavaria, which recognized and confirmed the various politi- 
cal changes that had taken place in the Germanic Empire. 
In this negotiation also, Joseph was invested with the full 
power of France. 

The superb villa of Joseph in the vicinity of Paris, where 
important treaties were negotiated, was the seat of refined 
hospitality and domestic happiness. The following sketch 
from one of the most celebrated French writers is interest- 
ing, as affording testimony of a high character in favor of 
the subject of this personal history. It is taken from the 
preface to the grand folio edition of Bernardin de St. 
Pierre's immortal romance of " Paul and Virginia.'' What 
renders this homage to the merits of Joseph by St. Pierre 
still more valuable, is, that the author openly professed re- 
publican doctrines : — 

"About a year and a half ago," [1804], says St. Pierre, 
" I was invited by one of the subscribers to the fine edition 
of Paul and Virginia, to come and see him at his country- 
house. He was a young father of a. family, whose physi- 
ognomy announced the qualities of his mind. He united in 
himself everything which distinguishes a son, a brother, a 
husband, a father, and a friend to humanity. He took me 
in private, and said — ' My fortune, which I owe to the 
nation, affords me the means of being useful ; add to my 
happiness by giving me an opportunity of contributing to 
your own.' This philosopher, so worthy of a throne, if any 
throne was worthy of him, was Prince Joseph Napoleon 
Bonaparte." 



JOSEPH COMMANDS THE ARMY OF ITALY. 843 

XIT. 

The camp at Boulogne, at first intended for the invasion 
of England, was formed in 1804. Napoleon invited Joseph 
to take part in that expedition. He accepted the command 
of a regiment, and repaired to the camp, where he con- 
tributed his full share to the spirit of concord and union 
which so remarkably distinguished that large body of ofiB- 
cers, whose opinions and prejudices upon most subjects were 
far from harmonious. But Joseph was soon to be summoned 
to a more exalted sphere of action, and the residue of his 
public life was passed in the midst of those striking revolu- 
tions which characterized the career of Napoleon when he 
became the dispenser of thrones, and the arbiter of nations. 

The senate and people of France, on calling Napoleon to 
the Empire in November, 1804, declared Joseph and his 
children heirs of the throne, on failure of Napoleon's issue. 
In the same year the Crown of Lombardy was offered to 
him. Declining, however, to renounce the political bonds 
which attached him to France, nor to enter into engagements 
which appeared to press hard upon Lombardy, he refused it. 
During the campaign of Austerlitz, he remained in the di- 
rection of affairs confided to him at Paris. A few days 
after that battle, he received orders from the Emperor to 
proceed to Italy and assume the command of the armv 
destined to invade the kingdom of Naples. 

XIII. 

The Neapolitan forces had been augmented by fourteen, 
thousand Russian, and several thousand English auxiliaries 
At the head of forty thousand French troops, Joseph entered 
that kingdom in February, 1806, and arrived before (^apua, 
which city after making a show of resistance, opened its 
gates. Eight thousand prisoners surrendered to the con- 



844 JOSEPH BONAPARTE. 

qiierors. The English and Russians effected a retreat, and 
King Ferdinand embarked for Sicily. He had created a 
Regency, who immediately entered into stipulations with 
Joseph for the surrender to the French of the capital and 
all the fortified posts. The siege of the fortress of Gaeta, 
which resisted, was begun, and General Regnier pursued 
the retreating Neapolitan army, which he overtook and de- 
feated. 

Joseph made his triumphant entry into Naples, the 15th 
of February, 1806, and was received with open arms by the 
people as their deliverer from the despotic rule of the 
Bourbons. He retained, however, in public stations, those 
who were commended to his favor. He organized a provi- 
sional administration at the Capital, and made a personal 
examination into the state of the kingdom ; inquiring also 
into the feasibility of an attempt upon Sicily. He com- 
menced a tour, attended by a corps cZ' elite under the command 
of General Lamar que ; thus informing himself of the charac- 
ter, peculiarities and wants of the country and its inhabi- 
tants. He halted in all the villages, and entered the princi- 
pal churches where the clergy so often assembled the people. 
The condition to which the country was reduced, favored 
his views in this investigation. Beneath the most enchant- 
ing sky, in the shade of the orange and the myrtle, he found 
the population in rags, and worn down by poverty and 
starvation, prostrated on the luxurious soil from vv^hich 
moderate industry might with ease obtain ample support — 
uttering the most abject supplications for charity and 
compassion. Nor was it difficult to perceive that these 
unhappy beings entertained the most absolute indifference 
as to political changes, owing to the conviction that what- 
ever the result of the new order of things then announced 
to them might be, their own situation could by no possibility 



JOSEPH ELECTED TO THE THRONE OP NAPLES. 345 

be rendered worse. So far had their former rulers been 
successful in desolating this fine country, and counteract- 
ing the bounties of Providence. 

XIY. 

It was during this journey that Joseph first received in- 
telligence that the Emperor Napoleon had made him King 
of Naples, and that the other European Continental Sove- 
reigns were disposed to do the same, within a short period. 
On his arrival at Palma, at the entrance of the Straits of 
Messina, he was forced to admit the impossibility of an ex- 
pedition against Sicily. King Ferdinand had concentrated 
his forces there, and carried off with him all the means of 
transportation, even the smallest boats. 

Thus compelled to postpone the attempt upon Sicily, Jo- 
seph continued his journey across that Magna Groecia, once 
so celebrated and flourishing — then so humbled and de- 
graded. His course led him along the shores of the Ionian 
Sea, through Catanzara, Cotroni, and Cassano. It was dur- 
ing this progress that he caused an examination to be made 
by engineers, into the practicability of a project, long since 
conceived, of uniting the Ionian and Tyrrhenian seas by a 
canal. Plans were drawn which might afterwards serve for 
use in that enterprise. He visited Tarentum and other 
parts of the kingdom, and returned to the Capital, where he 
was awaited by a deputation from the French Senate, ap- 
pointed to offer the congratulations of that body, on his ac- 
cession to the throne of Naples, and express the hope of his 
still retaining the dignities of Grand Elector and Prince of 
France. One of the deputation. Count Roederer, accepted 
the department of Finance, at Naples, tendered him by Jo- 
seph, and skillfully availing himself of his aid and counsel, 
in reorganizing the fiscal affairs of the kingdom on a new 



346 JOSEPH BONAPARTE. 

basis, established a public credit which has maintained itself 
under all the changes that have subsequently occurred. 
Marshal Jourdan was retained in the office of Governor of 
Naples, to which he had been appointed by Napoleon. 

Congratulations were tendered to the new monarch by all 
classes of his subjects. The clergy, led by Cardinal Ruffo, 
the nobility, and the people vied with each other in cele- 
brating his arrival among them. The provinces united with 
the capital in expressing their satisfaction at the change of 
government. 

XY. 

The talents of Joseph for executive power were shown 
in the formation of his administration. He appointed a 
Council of State, composed of men, in the choice of whom 
he was guided by public opinion, without distinction of birth 
or party. The most celebrated lawyers were associated in 
the Ministry with nobles of the loftiest birth. The. French 
whom he admitted to his Council, or his Court, were gene- 
rally men who had been distinguished for their abilities in 
the National Assemblies of France. Such modifications and 
improvements as had been suggested by his unreserved con- 
versations with men of all classes, were marked out for ac- 
complishment in proper time. He held up to his Council 
of State as a model the French Revol^ition, but cautioned 
them to avoid its evils, while they improved upon the 
changes it had introduced. Upon all he enjoined strict 
justipe and moderation, as the only true guides to the hap- 
piness of nations. 

XVI. 

But ^hile projecting and attending to these salutary 
reforms, Joseph was aware that the war was not at an end. 



CAPITULATION OF GAETA. 347 

The fortress of Gaeta kept a portion of the army employed ; 
an English squadron was hovering on the coast ; the Nea- 
politan troops, although beaten and dispersed, formed them- 
selves into numerous bands which infested and pillaged the 
country. The Sicilian Court had instigated the landing of 
an English army at the Gulf of St. Euphemia, where part 
of the army of Joseph, commanded by Regnier, chiefly com- 
posed of Poles, was beaten — an occurrence which for a 
time fomented partial insurrections. Joseph concentrated 
the requisite means for reducing Gaeta, and in person 
superintended an attack upon that fortress, where he was 
assisted by the French army under Marshal Massena. The 
garrison of Gaeta, consisting of seven thousand men, capitu- 
lated, and Massena marched on Calabria, whence the Eng- 
lish, on his approach, retired to Sicily. Massena then joined 
the army of Germany, and King Joseph appointed General^ 
Begnier to the government of Calabria. That officer de- 
feated a body of six thousand Neapolitan troops which had 
been landed from Sicily. Various other successes attended 
tlie troops of King Joseph, and affairs began to assume a 
more settled aspect. The chiefs of the most active bands 
had fallen ; all attempts to assassinate the new King had 
proved abortive. The National Guards which had been 
organized in all the provinces under the command of the 
wealthiest proprietors, who had all espoused the new regime, 
contributed to .extinguish the flame of revolt, and to pre- 
serve the tranquillity of the country, as soon as the principal 
masses of his enemies had been beaten and dispersed by the 
army of King Joseph. 

XYII. 

Before returning to Naples, the king renewed his visit to 
the provinces, and persevered in the same course of inquiry 



8i8 JOSEPH BONAPARTE. 

and inspection as on the former occasion. Mingling freely 
with the inhabitants, he interrogated them as to their desires 
and wants — inquired into abuses — called unfaithful func- 
tionaries to a severe account — and by the strict impartiality 
he maintained, as well as the sincere interest he exhibited in 
the welfare of his subjects, inspired universal confidence, and 
secured a peaceful triumph over their hearts and affections. 
On developing his plans of reform to the Councillors of 
State, on his arrival at the Capital, Joseph found little 
difficulty in persuading his intelligent ministry that the 
individual good of each class was to be obtained by me- 
liorating the condition of the whole. Few instances on re- 
cord more strikingly exemplify the power of reason over the 
minds of the most bigoted than the events of this revolution. 
The principal nobles of the kingdom were among the first 
to applaud and sustain the projects of reform ; thus, feudal 
rights were abolished with their free consent, and the most 
enlightened prelates, also members of the Council of State, 
approved and voted for the suppression of the monastic 
orders, whose funds soon contributed to establish public 
credit on a solid basis. A judicious administration intro- 
duced order and system into the finances. The feudal 
judges, whose jurisdictions had been annulled, were for the 
most part selected for judicial appointments in the new 
royal institutions. In a word, the national welfare and 
regeneration were attained without blood or tears, or indi 
vidual oppression. Although nothing was done by the 
people themselves, everything was done for the people by 
the government, and a revolution was thus effected without 
the convulsions attendant upon the sudden rising of an 
oppressed nation. 



Joseph's reforms. 349 

XYIIl. 

Among other reforms, Joseph prepared the advent of a 
new and enlightened age, by founding many civil and mili- 
tary colleges, and other institutions for male and female 
education, many of which are still existing. He opened 
high roads from one extremity of the kingdom to the other ; 
he established several manufactories of arms ; organized an 
army of twenty thousand men, in which the French military 
system was introduced ; provisional regiments were raised, 
and the command of them generally conferred on the sons of 
the most influential citizens ; a topographical bureau was 
organized under the learned geographer Zannonr ; a splen- 
did map of the kingdom was completed ; fortified places 
and the ramparts of the cities were rebuilt and strengthened, 
and a portion of the Lazzaroni who infested the Capital, 
were embodied as a corps of laborers and employed on 
useful public works. Clothed, fed, and paid, their toil 
eventuated in the completion of a new avenue from the 
metropolis. The city was embellished, and a part of the 
population until then thought incorrigible, became active 
and industrious. 

XIX. 

The city of Naples, which had been wretchedly lighted, 
was, in the second year of Joseph's reign, completely 
lighted, in the style of the city of Paris, with reflectors. 
The hospitals established at this period were endowed out 
of the national funds, and the nobility received an indem- 
nity for the feudal rights they had surrendered, in certifi- 
cates, which were taken in payment for the national domains ; 
the public debt was chiefly paid off, and its entire discharge 
secured by the creation and endowment of a sinking fund 
--a loan negotiated in Holland was guranteed, and its 
repayment assured in national certificates. , ' ; 



350 JOSEPH BONAPARTE. 

A Royal Academy, consisting of a body of learned men, 
divided into four classes, was established ; in this institution, 
those of Herculaneum and Pompeii were merged. Painting, 
music, and other branches of the fine arts, were encouraged. 
The Academy of Painting soon numbered twelve hundred 
pupils. In honor of the national poet, the King made a 
formal visit to the house in which Tasso -was born, at Sor- 
rento, a town which can only be reached on horseback, by a 
road passing along the brink of a precipice. Joseph di- 
rected a collection to be made of all the editions of this 
celebrated poet, and to be deposited in the house, under the 
care of his nearest lineal descendant, to whom he granted an 
office under government. And to facilitate visits to this 
shrine of genius, he directed a convenient road to be opened. 

A vast district in Apulia, called " Tavoliere di Puglia," 
belonging to the Crown, had been withheld from culture, 
and devoted to the pasturage of cattle and sheep, under a 
system by which government derived an annual income from 
it. The Council of State, at the suggestion of Joseph, 
caused this fertile and extensive territory to be sold, and it 
was thus brought into luxuriant cultivation, by agricul- 
turists, to the great benefit of the public treasury. 

XX. 

From a wish to inspire the Neapolitan nobility with a 
taste for country life, the king presented lands to many of 
them, in the vicinity of his own residence at Capo di Monte. 
With the same view, and to promote agriculture, he created 
an Order to which persons of all pursuits and professions, 
were admitted, and appointed a grand dignitary of. the 
order in each province to reside on an agricultural establish- 
ment or model-farm. At the same time, he influenced the 
nobles to re-establish their ancient residences, and urged 



PROGRESS OF CIVILIZATION IN NAPLES. 351 

them to hold themselyes forth as protectors of the country, 
and friends to the poor. 

Under the former government, the most rigid etiquette 
prevailed at the Palace. The sovereign (of the House of 
Bourbon,) was accessible only to a very small number of 
favorites. Joseph, on the contrary, threw open his Palace 
to the nobility, to his ministers, to the councillors of state, 
the members of the tribunals, the municipality of Naples, and 
officers of the higher grades. From their families he daily 
selected the guests of his table. It was thus that he gained 
an influence over the minds and hearts of all classes of 
society, and the greatest changes were peacefully effected. 

XXI. 

Joseph presided in person at the meetings of the Council 
of State, and although at that period no regular Constitu- 
tion existed in Naples, and his will was supreme, yet the 
instance was not found in which he "adopted a decree, unless 
approved by a majority of votes in the Council, after a dis- 
cussion in which uncontrolled liberty of debate was allowed. 
Speaking Italian with facility, he availed himself of this 
advantage, to develop and to support theories new to that 
people, but whose utility had been fully determined by 
experience in France. 

When Joseph arrived in Naples, the revenues of the king- 
dom did not exceed seven millions of ducats ; they were 
augmented by him, without oppression, to fourteen millions. 
The public debt which was one hundred millions, was 
reduced to fifty millions, and the means ascertained and 
secured for the extinguishment of the balance. His efforts 
at reform and improvement in all the departments of govern- 
ment, were crowned with entire success, and every species of 
national and individual prosperity was opening on Naples, 



852 JOSEPH BOXAPARTE. 

in brilliant perspective, when the will of Providence removed 
him to a different scene, where greater exertions and sacri- 
fices were demanded, and where, had he met with no fewer 
obstacles than he had encountered in Naples, he would in 
all probability have succeeded in regenerating another 
peninsula, also one of the fairest portions of Europe. 

XXII. 

It is interesting here to sum up the administration of Jo- 
seph in Naples, in the words of General Lamarque, who had 
been in his military service during this portion of his career. 
The letter from which we make this extract, was written by 
the General to Joseph, while the latter was in exile in 
America, and is dated, Paris, March 27, 1824 : — 

" You do well to devote some time to your Memoirs. It 
appears to me that the most interesting part is that of your 
reign in Naples. You there realized that which Plato 
wished so much for, the good of humanity — a philosopher 
on a throne. I remember well, in your travels, how strongly 
you inculcated to the nobles the love of the people ; to the 
people, respect for the laws — toleration to the priests, aiid 
order and moderation to the army. Not being able to 
establish political liberty, you endeavored to make your 
people enjoy all the benefit of that municipal administration 
which you considered to be the foundation of all institu- 
tions. 

" Under your administration, too short for a nation by 
which you were so much regretted, feudality was destroyed ; 
depredation and robberies ceased ; the system of taxation 
was changed ; order was established in the finances ; an 
administration created ; the nobles and the people recon- 
ciled ; roads constructed in every direction ; the capital 
embellished ; the army and navy re-organized ; the kingdom. 



353 



evacuated by the English ; Gaeta, Scylla, Reggio, Marathea, 
and Amanthea taken. Your Memoirs will be a lesson to 

Kings." 

XXIII. 

Says Colletta in his History of the Eealm of Naples — 
*' The universal and voluntary recognition of the new King 
Joseph, flowed from no gratitude to him, for he had not yet 
sat upon the throne ; nor from hopes inspired, because he 
was a conqueror, but from the enchantments of fortune and 
power. He took up the royal functions, king in everything 
but the name, styling himself in his Edicts, ' French Prince,' 
' Grand Elector of the Empire,' and ' Commander-in-Chief 
of the Navy of Naples.' His first Edict was the Proclama- 
tion of the Emperor Napoleon, who, from the field of Schoen- 
brunn, flushed with victory and burning with revenge, 
said — ' Soldiers ! For ten years I have done everything to 
save the. King of Naples — he has done everything to destroy 
himself. After the battles of Dego, Mondovi and Lodi, he 
could offer but feeble resistance— confiding in his promises, 
I was generous to him. The second confederation against 
France was broken at Marengo : the King of Naples, who 
had fomented that unjust war, left without allies, without 
defence, and abandoned in the Treaties of Luneville, recom- 
mended himself to me, although an enemy, and I pardoned 
him a second time. A few months ago, when you were 
before the gates of Naples, I suspected new treacheries from 
that Court, and could have defeated them while I took 
vengeance for old ones. But I was generous : I recognized 
the neutrality of Naples. I required your departure from 
that kingdom, and for the third time the House of the 
Bourbons was confirmed on the throne and saved. Shall 
we pardon the fourth time ? Shall we confide again in a 
Court without faith, without honor, and without sense ? No^ 



354 JOSEPH BONAPARTE. 

no : the House of Naples has ceased to reign — its existence 
is incompatible with the repose of Europe and the honor of 
my Crown. Soldiers ! advance ! Overwhelm in the waves, 
if they have the courage to await you, the weak battalions 
of the tyrant of the seas. Show to the world how we 
punish perjured faith. Haste to tell me that Italy is 
governed by my laws and by my colleagues ; that the most 
beautiful country on the earth is freed from the yoke of the 
most perfidious of men ; that the sacredness of treaties is 
vindicated ; that the shades of my brave soldiers, returned 
from Egypt, escaped from the dangers of the sea, of the 
deserts and of battle-fields, but cruelly butchered in the 
ports of Sicily, are at last appeased. Soldiers ! my brother 
is with you — repository of my thoughts and my authority : 
he has my confidence — give him yours.' The style of the 
proclamation, and the power of him who wrote it, reassured 
the Neapolitans against the vengeance of the Bourbons, in 
3799." 

XXIY. 

Farther on, in his valuable work, Colletta says — " But let 
us refresh our spirits with some account of wise laws and 
beneficent institutions. The cabinet was reorganized ; the 
ministry of foreign affairs was confided to the Marquis of 
Gallo, who had been ambassador of King Ferdinand at the 
Court of France. The rapid transition from one king to 
another — which was called treachery by the more severe — 
really arose in most instances by the hopes inspired by the 
Napoleon Empire, by the errors of the late king, by signs of 
prosperity in the beginning of the new reign, as well as from 
self-ini erest and the inconstancy of the age. 

We were not then prepared for the most liberal institu- 
tions — for morals are more necessary than laws to make a 
people free. Nor does liberty advance by strides of revolu- 



NEAPOLITAN LITERATURE. iiOO 

tion, but through grades of civilization ; and that legislator 
is wise who prepares the steps for its advancement, rather 
than he who thrusts society towards an ideal good to which 
the conceptions of the popular mind and the desires of the 
heart and the habits of society are not equal. We confess 
and we hope. Addicted to little progress, little will do for 
us Italians : we are too enlightened, and yet not enlightened 
enough for enterprises of liberty." 

We have glanced at events in the provinces of Calabria. 
In the meantime, at Naples the financial administration 
was organized, public instruction was improved, feudalism 
was destroyed, the rights of primogeniture were abolished, 
the crown lands were divided, the tribunals were simplified, 
and many other beneficent changes were effected. Feu- 
dalism — which arose in conquest — monarchy, the semi-civil- 
ization of nations, and the natural pride of man, existed 
also in the two Sicilies, as it had taken root in the rest of 
Europe. The advent of the Napoleon power put an end to 
it in Sicily forever. 

XXV. 

In the vicissitudes of Neapolitan literature the unequal 
distribution of punishments or rewards destroyed their effi- 
cacy. It was the fortune of Giannoni to die in prison, of 
Campanella to be put to the torture, and of Giannoni Bruno 
— of schools and gymnasia — to be shot ; while some learned 
men were favored by fortune with the base life of courtiers, 
and some academies were tolerated for appearance' sake. 
Hence severe and frequent punishments, rare and ignoble 
rewards generated, during a period of adversity, universal 
ignorance, and but few learned men were left even to look 
down upon an ignorant people. Instruction was not public 
— it was not diffused — a blind policy was in the ascendant. 



356 JOSEPH BONAPARTE. 

This unhappy error had existed for centuries, and we trace 
its malign influence through all the vicissitudes of Italian 
letters down to the period of the accession of Joseph. 

To correct these evils other laws were enacted in 1806, 
prescribing that every city and village should have teachers 
of both sexes for boys and girls to learn reading, writing, 
the art of enumeration, and the duties of citizens ; that 
every province should have a college for males and an insti- 
tution for the other sex ; that they should be taught some of 
the primary sciences, the fine arts, and the noble occupations 
of cultivated society ; and that in the chief city of the king- 
dom there should flourish a university for high and liberal 
studies — a culminating pyramid of public instruction. Other 
laws established special schools — a royal poly technique 
academy, one for the fine arts, one for the mechanic arts, 
one for the deaf and dumb, one for naval science, one for 
the arts of design, a society of surgery and medicine, and 
another of music. Some of these foundations were new, and 
others improved ; but they were all endowed by the public 
treasury. The seminaries and private colleges for priests 
were preserved ; and, although their reformation was in- 
tended, it awaited the opportunity of time ; since the new 
King, in the midst of so many changes, did not wish to court 
new quarrels with the Pope. Private colleges seconded 
public instruction ; and, although established for private 
advantages, they were favored by the government, subjected 
to its vigilance, and rewarded for their success. A decree 
instituted and munificently endowed an academy of history, 
antiquity, sciences and arts, which subsequently grew into 
importance, and was called " The Royal Society." Rewards 
and privileges were bestowed upon two other academies 
called " d'lncorraggimento" and " Pontaniana." 

" The advantages of this system of public instruction, 



NOBLE IXSTITUTIOXS AND ACTS. 857 

which I have shadowed out," says Colletta, " were the pro- 
mulgation of intelligence through all ranks, so that no gift 
of genius or virtue should remain obscure because it could 
not show itself. The privilege of birth disappeared, for there 
were lodged in the same college the highest and the lowest 
of society, the sons of patricians and the sons of peasants. 
Letters were protected, schools multiplied, academies and 
lyceums were abundantly endowed. The learned were 
venerated and nobly sustained, but not enriched ; for the 
excessive favors of princes, although advantageous to them, 
are fatal to science. Liberty of writing, entire property of 
copyright, are the encouragements and aliment of men of 
genius — anything else, more or less, is only hurtful." 

XXVI. 

For amusement or to visit the provinces, Joseph frequently 
left the city. Over the ruins of Cuma he said — " Thus, too, 
in the revolution of centuries, the monuments of the Empe- 
ror Napoleon will be buried." He visited in Sorrentum the 
house of Tasso, and, struck with its humble appearance, he 
ordered that before it a magnificent monument should be 
erected at the public expense. In Pompeii he purchased 
the lands which covered the city, only a small part of it at 
that time having been discovered. He stopped often in 
cities and villages and showed himself liberal, beneficent 
and clement. He invited the chief men to public council : 
and, by their vote, faithful officers displaced those that were 
odious, and the guilty were punished. He sent back to 
France one of his own generals, displaced an [ntendant, 
raised an obscure priest to be a councillor of state, and 
created magistrates like those among the Roma,ns. 

Perhaps in no portion of the civilized world had justice 
'jeen administered more unsatisfactorily than in Naples. 



S58 JOSEPH BOXAPARTE. 

The legislation and edicts of past ages constituted a chaos 
of jurisprudence, if it be worth the name, and a mass of 
absurdity. Joseph announced and caused to be completed 
for the kingdom of Naples a new code, which corresponded 
in some measure, and in kind, with the stupendous code of 
Napoleon. When it was finished and was reduced to prac- 
tice, a magnificent spectacle was exhibited throughout the 
kingdom — a magistracy in every commune, superior magis- 
trates in central towns, and higher magistracies in the 
chief places of the provinces ; causes were commenced and 
finished on the spot ; judgment and judges stood by the 
interests of the people ; despotic practices were suspended ; 
hangers-on around the tribunals were banished, and de- 
ceptions, intimidations and torture, both of witnes'ses and 
the accused, were prohibited — And thus, the immense mass 
of errors of ancient jurisprudence, the fruits of eighteen 
centuries of Italian miseries, political convulsions and do- 
mestic wars, desolating conquests, invasions of barbarous 
nations, the haughtiness of the great, the servitude of the 
people, a dominion long despised by us, were in a moment 
swept away. In former times, when the laws were changed, 
it was an act of power — now it became one of reason ; once 
the State domineered — now it governed ; once it demanded 
only obedience — now it seeks the appreciation and favor of 
the people. Hence, in past times, even when jurisprudence 
happened to be perfect, it was but an instrument of quiet and 
of justice — from our times we see that it is destined to be 
in the future an instrument of high civilization. At last 
Joseph was summoned to France, and when he left, the man- 
ner of his departure indicated he was not to return. A 
month later, in an edict from Bayonne, he announced that 
he had been called by the providence of God to the tlirone 
of Spain and the Indies ; that he left us with grief ; that 



FRUITS OF Joseph's reign. 359 

he seemed to have done little that he had contemplated 
for the good of the State, great as had been his cares and 
the efforts of his government ; that he left, as a monument 
of his love, a political statute confirming the good effected 
by his means, and designed to produce still more beneficent 
changes. 

XXYII. 

In the meantime, error and not wisdom, disdain and not 
counsel, prevented the Neapolitans from carrying into effect 
the constitution which Joseph had left them ; for the hun- 
dred notables, assembled in Parliament, made a virtue of 
talk, only in favor of the people — but the spirit of numerous 
assemblies, wherever they meet, is always the spirit of the 
times. Centuries of feudalism, of municipal liberty, of 
Papacy, and of the Crusaders, test it. Hence, had the 
Ij;alians better understood their age, they would have found 
in the constitution which Joseph sent them, from Bayonne, 
a check on despotism. Such are the words of Colletta. 

" In June, 1808, King Joseph's family left, and his suite 
set out for France three months after they had so unosten- 
tatiously settled in Naples. When it was known they were 
to leave, the great officers of the crown, the ministers, and 
councillors of state, the municipal authorities, generals, 
magistrates, societies and academies, crowded the court, to 
offer their auguries of felicity — It was the Queen of Spain 
who was leaving. Jourdan, a Marshal of the Empire, pre- 
ceded the royal carriage on horseback, and it was followed 
by ambassadors of foreign powers, and a numerous cortege. 
An immense crowd of people increased the magnificence 
of the spectacle ; and although this vast multitude had been 
drawn together from curiosity, it seemed to be public re- 
spect. Many knights and ladies of rank were dismissed at 
A-vezia, and others at Capua ; the ministers of state and 



3G0 JOSEPH BONAPARTE. 

councillors, and other distinguished personages, took lea\e 
of the Queen only at the frontier of the kingdom. Three 
ladies of high rank, a knight and a prince, accompanied the 
Queen to the end of her journey, and returned enriched by 
munificent presents. These pageants recall the often un- 
happy fate of the former queens of Naples. They were 
all born of powerful races, while Julie Glary, wife of King 
Joseph, was born at Marseilles, the daughter of an honora- 
ble merchant. Misfortune waited even on her, for after a 
brief felicity she fell from the throne — but she preserved her 
simplicity and her innocence. In these freaks and lacera- 
tions of fate one might perceive lessons to human pride, if 
haughty natures were ever helped by example. , On the second 
of July the edict of Joseph was published, announcing his 
accession to his new kingdom, which he called a burden — 
and such he found it.'' 

XX Yin. 

Colleta thus sums up in the History of the Reign of Jo- 
seph, the character of the King : — " Learned, and. a cultivator 
of French, Italian and Latin letters ; ignorant of sciences, 
expert in politics, in the French and modern acceptation, 
prudent in dangers, and if they increased, timid and cruel ; 
just in prosperity — as he was neither influenced by hope 
lior suspicion, encomiastic of simplicit}^ and private life, a 
lover of pleasures and royal dissoluteness — honest in his 
conversation, and honest also in his actions, when necessity 
required it ; fond of stately living, obedient and devoted to 
his brother, the Emperor, and more careful to please him 
than to help his people. He was therefore fully equal to 
the office of an old king, and not equal to that of a new 
one. Joseph made Naples indebted to him for the suppres- 
sion of convents, the division of real estate, and the conse- 



MEETS NAPOLEOX. 3dl 

qiieiil increase of the numbers of its possessors, the humbling 
of the Papacy, the establishment of equality among citizens, 
the sciences restored, scholars venerated, and civilization 
advanced. We now see the new civilization advancing 
through Europe, although opposed by the partisans of the 
old, who accuse constitutional governments of being timid 
or unskillful in the management of mankind ; while the same 
civilization is growing like the oak in the forest, which 
neither dies because it is stripped of its leaves by the storms 
in winter, nor is shorn of its limbs by the axe or the 
thunderbolt, since it preserves in its own nature the secret 
of perpetuity." 

XXIX. 

King Joseph received a pressing invitation from Napo- 
leon to meet him at Bayonne, whither the Emperor had re- 
paired in June, 1808, to meet the Spanish princes. At an 
interview held with Napoleon some months previous, at 
Venice, during the Emperor's journey to Italy in the latter 
part of the year 1807, Joseph had been made acquainted 
with the feuds which distracted the reigning house of Spain, 
and of the embarrassments to which they would probably 
lead ; still no definite resolution had been taken, and Jo- 
seph left Naples and his family, for Bayonne, in June, 1808, 
in the expectation of shortly returning thither. But he 
was met by Napoleon at a short distance from Bayonne, and 
informed by him that the afi:airs of Spain had assumed a 
highly cr^cal character : that a reconciliation between the 
Spanish {ffi^es was impracticable ; that to make an elec- 
tion between Charles TV. and his son Ferdinand, was at- 
tended with insuperable difficulty ; for that the former 
refused to return to Spain without his favorite Godoy, the 
Prince of Peace, and that otherwise he preferred retire- 



362 JOSEPH BONAPARTE. 

raent in France — that Godoy had neither talents nor dispo- 
sition to render the Spanish nation happy, or his govern- 
ment popular — that both the King and Queen chose rather 
to see a stranger ascend the throne than to cede it to Ferdi- 
nand — that neither Ferdinand nor any other Spaniard 
wished for the return of Charles, if he was determined to 
restore the reign of Godoy — and that they also would 
prefer a stranger to him — that he (Napoleon,) perceived 
that it would cost him a greater effort to sustain Charles, 
with Godoy, than to change the Dynasty — that no regenera- 
tion of Spain was practicable while the Bourbon Dynasty 
continued — that the first personages of the kingdoin, in 
rank, information and character, assembled in a National 
Junta at Bayonne, were convinced of this truth — and that 
since destiny pointed out this course, and he then felt as- 
sured of accomplishing what he would not have voluntarily 
undertaken, he had nominated his brother the King of 
Naples, who was acceptable to ine Junta, and would be so 
to the nation at large. 

XXX. 

Ferdinand had long since solicited one of Napoleon s 
nieces in marriage, but since his more intimate knowledge 
of that prince during his residence at Bayonne, the Emperor 
said he did not think proper to accede to his request. 
Napoleon further urged that the Spanish princes had de- 
parted for France — that they had ceded to him all their 
rights to the crown — that it was highly importa«it that his 
brother should not hesitate, lest the Spaniards, as well as 
foreign monarchs, might suppose that he (Napoleon,) wished 
to encircle his own brows with this additional crown, as he 
had with that of Lombardy some years before, upon the 
refusal of Joseph to accept it. 



While Joseph still hesitated, arguments of a different 
character were urged by Napoleon, who observed to him 
that his compliance would produce a reconciliation among 
the members of their own family ; for in that case he pro- 
posed to place Lucien on the throne of Naples. [Jo-seph 
liad made an attempt, in June, 1807, to restore harmony 
between Napoleon and Lucien, but no accommodation re- 
sulted from their interview, which was arranged at Mantua. 
In March, or April, 1808, Napoleon had proposed to his 
brother Louis to retire from the throne of Holland and 
accept the crown of Spain, but Louis declined the offei*.] 
Napoleon finally appealed to more elevated feelings — he 
pointed out the glory Joseph would derive from restoring a 
great people like Spain to her rank among nations, by a 
course of policy compatible with the enlightened spirit of 
the age, and which his own good judgment would dictate. 

XXXT. 

This conversation contained matter for the serious reflec- 
tion of Joseph ; but when he arrived at Bayonne, the mem- 
bers of the Junta were all assembled at the chateau of Mar- 
rac ; he was obliged to receive their addresses, to which he 
returned indefinite answers, still postponing his decision. 
On the following day he had interviews with the Duke del 
Infantado, and Cevallos, who were regarded as the warmest 
partisans of Ferdinand. The Duke observed, that the intel- 
ligence he had received from his agents at Naples satisfied 
him that if Joseph was destined to be to Spain what he had 
been to Naples, the entire nation would rally around him. 
Cevallos held nearly the same language to Joseph, who then 
received in succession all the members of the Junta, con- 
sisting of nearly one hundred persons. They painted in 
strong colors the evils which afflicted their country, and the 



804 JOSEPH BONAPARTE. 

facility wliicli existed for their suppression. All expressed 
their anxious hopes that he would accept the crown, and 
thereby restore tranquillity and prosperity to their country, 
which had already, at Saragossb, and in several of the 
provinces, been whelmed in commotion, in consequence of a 
belief that Napoleon was seeking to annex Spain to France. 

XXXII. 

Joseph, thus assured, that he alone, by sacrificing the 
the throne of Naples to ascend that of Spain, appeared to 
unite all parties, yielded his own wishes and interests to 
accept the throne which was offered to him, an'd the post 
Avhere the greatest peril existed. Duty, not ambition, con- 
ducted him to Spain. But he would not surrender the 
throne of Naples, until he had obtained the guarantee of the 
Emperor Napoleon that the institutions he had introduced 
should be made permanent. Joseph then abdicated the 
crown of Naples, June, 1808, having reigned in thatktngdonj 
a little over two years. He was succeeded a few days aftei 
by Murat. 

The decree of Napoleon, by which Joseph was named 
" King of Spain and the Indies," was dated June 6, 1808. 
A constitution founded on nearly the same principles as 
had been secured to Naples was adopted by the Junta at 
Bayonne, for Spain, and also guaranteed by the Emperor. 
Joseph and the members of the Junta swore fidelity to it, 
believing that if carried into effect it would have suSiced 
for the regeneration of the Spanish people. The recogni 
tion of national sovereignty represented in the Cortes, the 
independence of their powers, the demarcation of the pa- 
trimony of the crown and the public treasure, might have 
proved sufficient to extricate Spain from the abyss into 
which she had so long been sinking. 



JOSEPH ENTERS SPAIN. 365 

XXXIII. 

The accession of Joseph to the throne of Spain was noti- 
fied by Cevallos as Secretary of State, to the foreign powers, 
by all of whom, with the exception of England, he was for- 
mally recognized. The Emperor of Rnssia even added feli- 
citations to his acknowledgment, founded on the estimation 
in which he held the personal character of the new King. 
Ferdinand too, wrote him letters of congratulation, and so- 
licited him to induce Napoleon to give him one of his nieces 
in marriage. The oath of allegiance of the Spaniards, who 
were with Ferdinand in France, was annexed to these 
letters. 

On the 9th of July, 1808, Joseph crossed the Spanish 
frontiers. He was attended by the grandees of Spain who 
had met at Bayonne, and a numerous suite. Upon his entry 
into Madrid, [the 12th of July,] he found the people greatly 
exasperated at the events of the 2d of May, 1808, when a 
part of the royal family was removed from Madrid and 
sent to Bayonne, and hostilities took place between the 
people and the French army then in Madrid, under jNIurat. 
A stranger to all that had happened, Joseph endeavored to 
conciliate public opinion, and convened at the palace an 
assemblage of persons from the different classes of society ; 
entered into conversation with them, and explained to them 
his motives, views and intentions. The current of popular 
feeling was turned in his favor ; but the flattering hopes 
created by these gleams of popular favor were soon dissi- 
pated by the intelligence which reached Madrid, of the 
capitulation of the French army at Baylen — an event that 
rendered necessary the retreat of Marshal Bessiere's army, 
which three weeks before had fought and won the battle of 
Rio Seco. Joseph was of course under the necessity of ac- 
companying them ; and he left Madrid ten days after lie 



S6Q JOSEPH BONAPARTE. 

had entered it, directing the Minister of Justice, Pinuella, 
Cevallos, and the Duke del Infantado, to ascertain the feel- 
ings of the chiefs of the Spanish army who had conquered 
at Baylen. Besides the disaster which befel the French 
army at that place, General Junot had been compelled to 
capitulate in Portugal, and thus left the English and Portu- 
guese forces disposable. The Spaniards" flocked in from 
all quarters against the French army, which was unable to 
resume offensive operations until the month of November. 

XXXIY. 

The battles of Tudela, Burgos, and Sommo Sierra, by 
which the Spanish armies were beaten and dispersed, opened 
again the gates of Madrid. Napoleon had hastened to the 
seat of war, and joined Joseph at his head-quarters at Yit- 
toria, and directed the movements of the French army, in 
November, 1808. The march of the English army to Ga- 
licia, and the threatening aspect of affairs with Austria, 
soon summoned the Emperor away, and he left Spain in 
January, 1809, intrusting to Joseph the command of the 
French forces in his kingdom. He had entered Madrid 
with the French army commanded by General Belliau, 
which took possession of the city on the 4th of December. 
Napoleon issued a proclamation, setting forth his desire to 
be the regenerator of the Spanish nation. But in case his 
mild and healing mediation should be again refused, he 
declared he would treat them as a conquered people, and 
place his brother on another throne : " I will in that case, 
(said he in this Document), set the crown of Spain on my 
own head, and I shall know how to make it respected ; for 
God has given me the power and the will to surmount al) 
difficulties.'' 



STRUGGLES OF THE NEW KING. 367 

XXXV. 

Joseph returned to Madrid the 22d of Januarj, 1809, 
and formed a ministry and council of state, the members of 
which he selected with entire deference to public opinion. 
He pledged himself for the convocation of the Cortes, and 
for the evacuation of Spain by the French troops, as soon as 
the country should be pacified. "If I love France as my 
family," said he, " I am devoted to Spain as to my religion." 
Pursuing a course of policy similar to that he had followed 
in Naples, he recognized the existing public debt of Spain, 
and endeavored to provide means for its payment — gave 
facilities for the secularization of monks — inspected in per- 
son unfinished works of internal improvement — promoted 
enterprise, and gave aid and countenance to national in- 
dustry in its various departments. 

The earliest military occurrences of his reign were also 
propitious. Saragossa surrendered to Marshal Lannes ; Mar- 
shal Victor was victorious at Medelin, and Joseph himself, 
at the head of his guard and a division of the French army, 
drove the army of Yenegas beyond the Sierra Morena. But 
this state of things soon underwent a change. A British 
army under Wellesley, (afterwards Lord Wellington), ad- 
vanced from Portugal ; a Portuguese army, under Marshal 
Beresford, marched on the Upper Duero ; and the main 
Spanish army, under G-eneral Cuesta, crossed the Tagus, at 
Almanez, to form a junction with the English. 

XXXVI. 

To frustrate the intention of the Allied Generals to con 
centrate their forces, Joseph resolved to attack them at a 
distance from Madrid. He advanced with all his disposable 
force — the French troops being under the command of Mar- 
shal Victor. The Spaniards, however, succeeded in forming 



868 JOSEPH BONAPARTE. 

a junction with the English at Talavera, on the 27th July, 
1809 — their numerical force being double that of the 
French ; but the latter determined on an attack, and a bloody 
action ensued. Talavera was evacuated by the Spaniards, 
but the British troops held their position. Yet, upon the 
whole, the result of the action was favorable to the French 
the allies were checked, and Joseph having made a rapid 
movement on the Val de Moro, the Spanish army of Venegas, 
which had crossed the Tagus, now abandoned its designs 
upon Madrid, and retired. The army of Yenegas, thirty 
thousand strong, was subsequeutly, on the 4th of August, 
attacked at Almonacid, dispersed and destroyed by the 
French, under Marshal Jourdan. 

XXXVII. 

Other successes favorable to the cause of Joseph followed. 
Having returned to Madrid he received intelligence that fifty 
thousand Spaniards had entered La Mancha ; he marched 
against them and defeated them at Ocana. In other parts 
of Spain, the French commanders had been successful, and 
Joseph determined to profit by these smiles of fortune. 
At the head of a force of sixty thousand men, he defeated 
the Spaniards at the foot of the Sierra Morena. Cordova 
surrendered to the French, as did also Grenada, Jaen and 
Seville ; and Marshal Yictor advanced on Cadiz. The 
Allies prepared for a vigorous defence of that city ; a pro- 
tracted siege was expected, and Joseph returned to Madrid, 
Jeaving the army under the command of Marslial Soult. 

At Cordova, Joseph pledged himself, without reserve, that 
as soon as the English evacuated the Peninsula, the French 
armies should also leave it, and that he would follow in 
their steps, unless retained by the sincere wishes of the 
nation, when enlightened as to its true interests. He stated 



LIBERAL SPIRIT OF JOSEPH'S REIGN. 869 

that the nation could never enjoy a greater sliare of liberty 
than the King wished it to possess, inasmuch as he never 
could feel himself truly her King until Spain was truly free, 
and delivered from the presence of all foreign armies. 

At Seville, Joseph was received with enthusiasm. When 
he was at St. Mary's, in front of Cadiz, he gave assurance 
to the Spanish chiefs there assembled, of his intention to 
assemble immediately a Cortes at Grenada, in which the 
various influential classes should be represented. To this 
national assembly he would submit a single question to dis- 
cuss — viz : " Do we, or do we not, accept the constitution, 
and the king offered to us by the Junta of Bayonne ?" If 
the negative was pronounced, Joseph would leave Spain, as 
he was determined to reign, if at all, by the consent of the 
people. 

XXXVIII. 

But the French Government was becoming weary of the 
enormous sacrifices which attended the war in Spain. They 
thought that the system pursued by them in other countries 
ought to be followed in Spain ; and that from the country 
itself those resources should be drawn which were required 
to sustain the war. Joseph, on the contrary, forbade ex- 
actions on the people, as naturally tending to alienate the 
Spaniards from his government, and required that France 
should continue to provide for the exigences of her troops. 
At this time a measure was adopted by Napoleon which was 
at variance with the line of policy pursued by Joseph. By 
ail imperial decree, military governments were established 
in the provinces of Spain, and French generals were placed 
at the head of these administrative juntas, and the Spanish 
Intendant was reduced to the position of Secretary. By a 
decree, issued in February, 1810, by the French Emperor, 
the provinces of Catalonia, xlrragon, Biscay, and Navarre, 



370 JOSEPH BONAPARTE. 

were organized into four distinct governments, and the 
military government of eacli was charged with the entire 
direction of its affairs. In a letter to the French Am- 
bassador at Madrid, the Duke de Cadore, Napoleon's Secre- 
tary, thus explained his purpose : — " The intention of the 
Emperor is to unite to France the whole left bank of the 
Ebro, and perhaps as far as the Douro. One of the objects 
of the present decree is to prepare for that annexation ; and 
you will take care, without letting fall a hint of the Empe- 
ror's designs to pave the way for such change, and facilitate 
all the measures which his majesty may take to carry it into 
execution." 

XXXIX. 

The state of things produced by these Decrees could not 
fail to destroy all the good effects in Joseph's favor of the 
successful campaign of Andalusia, in 1810 — a campaign, 
planned and executed by the King himself, with the co-oper- 
ation of Marshal Soult, the Duke of Dalmatia, who com- 
manded the French army in this part of Spain. Abandoning 
now all hopes of bringing about the surrender of Cadiz, by 
the conciliatory measures he had employed, Joseph left 
the army of Soult, and visited the eastern part of Andalusia. 
In the course of this journey, he expressed to the deputa- 
tions from Grenada, Jaen and Malaga, his firm resolution 
never to consent to any dismemberment of the Spanish'ter- 
ritory, or to any sacrifice whatever of national independence. 

XL. 

On his return to Seville, the King issued decrees pre- 
scribing territorial divisions, organizing the civil adminis- 
tration within these districts, and directing the formation of 
National Guards. He returned to Madrid in Jane, 1810, 
after an absence of five months. 



EMBAREASSMEXT OF THE KING. 871 

The solicitude of Joseph respecting the decrees and inten- 
tions of Napoleon was so much awakened, by the informa- 
tion which had transpired, that, to avert the stroke as far as 
possible, he dispatched M. Aranza, an able Spaniard, zealous 
for the interests of his country, to Paris, under the pretence 
of congratulating his brother, on his marriage with Maria 
Louisa, in the spring of 1810. Aranza, having instructions 
to ascertain the views of the Emperor, and to expostulate 
against measures injurious to Spain, found on his arrival at 
Paris, that the expense of the war in Spain was the great 
subject of complaint with the French Cabinet. The Duke 
de C adore declared that it was the wish of the Emperor to 
demand as his right, indemnities in the shape of territory. 
Aranza pleaded for the integrity of Spain, and urged the 
obligation of the Emperor to sustain his brother on the 
throne where he had placed him. He was told, that King 
Joseph would do well to remember that Ferdinand, who 
was then in the power of the Emperor, would make no 
scruple to cede the required provinces, if acknowledged as 
King. Aranza returned, downcast, to Madrid. 

Another decree was issued by the Emperor, May 29, 1810, 
forming two additional military governments, and with the 
former ones, embracing the whole territory north of the 
Douro. To Marshal Soult, by another decree, was given 
the exclusive direction of the army, and the provinces south 
of the Sierra Modena. 

XLI. 

Such was the destitution to which the Court of Madrid 
was reduced at the close of 1810, that in January, 1811, Jo- 
seph intimated to Xapoleon that the French Marshals in- 
tercepted his revenues, disregarded his orders, insulted his 
government, and oppressed and ruined the country. Al- 



372 JOSEPH BONAPARTE. 

though he would never oppose the Emperor's will, he 
declared he would not live a degraded king, and therefore 
he was ready to resign, unless the Emperor would remedy 
the evils of which he complained. Napoleon interposed so 
far as to afford partial but insufficient relief. Joseph there- 
fore, [May, 1811,] set out for Paris, with his resignation 
prepared, to lay before his brother. The Emperor induced 
him to return to Spain, by the positive assurance that the 
military governments should soon cease, stating that the 
system had already wrought a good effect upon the English 
government, who offered to withdraw their army from 
Portugal, if the French troops would evacuate Spain. Eng- 
land would also recognize King Joseph, if the Spanish 
nation did, and if France would consent to recognize the 
House of Braganza, in Portugal. The different military 
districts were to be placed under the command of Joseph — 
the Cortes convened — and the French armies to evacuate 
Spain, as soon as the King was satisfied that their presence 
was no longer necessary. The army of the Centre was to 
be placed under the control of the King, and one million of 
francs monthly was to be paid him from the treasury of 
France toward the support of his Court and Government. 

XLII. 

In the hope of a successful issue of the negotiation with 
England, and of the faithful execution of the promises and 
guarantee of the Emperor, Joseph returned to Madrid, 
[July, 1811,] and had every reason to be gratified with his 
reception. 

Our limits do not permit us to dwell on the events of the 
war which followed his return to his Capital. Marshal 
Massena, who had entered Portugal at the head of a division 
of the French army, 75,000 strong, after takiug Almeida 



DECLINE OF THE FRENCH POWER IN SPAIN. 373 

and Ciiidad Rodrigo, was compelled, [March, 1811,] to 
withdraw Ms troops, then reduced by sickness, forced 
marches, and want of provisions, to 35,000. He re-en- 
entered Spain, Und retreated to Salamanca. The English, 
nnder Lord Wellington, no longer held in check by the 
army of Portugal, advanced into Spain, occupied Ciudad 
Kodrigo and Badajos, the latter having surrendered to the 
French under Soult, in March, 1811. While Soult and 
Victor had been occupied with the blockade of Cadiz, 
Suchet commenced decisive operations in the East of Spain, 
supported by a covering army under Macdonald. Tortosa, 
on the Ebro, yielded to the French army on the 2d of Jan., 
1811 ; Taragona, on the Mediterranean, surrendered to 
Suchet on the 29th of June ; Saguntum, on the 26th of 
October ; and Valencia, on the 9th of January, 1812. 
This latter conquest made the French masters of all that 
portion of the Peninsula, and placed in their hands an im- 
mense quantity of artillery and military stores. But, on 
the other hand, by the capture of Ciudad Rodrigo and Ba- 
dajos, the English under Wellington gained possession of 
320 pieces of artillery, a large quantity of military stores, 
and a road was opened to the heart of Spain for the British 
army. Marshal Victor, the remainder of the Imperial 
Guard, and several regiments of the line were recalled to 
France. All hopes of a negotiation with England had 
vanished ; partial insurrections multiplied ; new guerrillas 
were formed, who were subsidized by the English, and fos- 
tered by the. exasperation of the inhabitants ; and communi- 
cations became more difficult. Navarre was ravaged by the 
band of Mina, the Spanish general — now SAvelled to an 
army, and famine was laying waste the Capital and tho 
Provinces. 



S74 JOSEPH BONAPARTE. 

XLIII. 

Such was tlie gloomy state of ajffairs, when King Joseph 
addressed the following letter to Napoleon : — 

" Madrid, March 23, 1812. 

*' To THE Emperor : 

" Sire, — When, a year ago, I requested your Majesty's 
advice relative to my return to Spain, you urged my going 
back, and consequently I am now here. You were kind 
enough to say, that I should always have the power of 
leaving this country, if the hope we had indulged was not 
realized. In that case your Majesty assured me an asylum 
in the centre of the Empire, between which and Morte- 
fontaine I might divide my residence. Sire, events have 
deceived my hopes ; I have done good, and I have no 
longer a hope of being of any service. I pray your Majesty 
then to permit me to place in your hands my right to 
the Crown of Spain, which you deigned to transmit to me 
four years ago. In accepting this crown, I had no object in 
view but the welfare of this vast Monarchy. It has not 
been in my power to accomplish it. I pray your Majesty to 
receive me as one of your subjects, and to believe that you 
will never have a more faithful servant than the friend 
whom nature gave you. Joseph." 

We may well understand that the Emperor could not 
accept this abdication, for he was extremely anxious to put 
an end to the war with Spain, in order that it should not 
interfere with his projects. Previous to setting out on his 
Prussian campaign, in the spring of 1812, he manifested his 
continued confidence in Joseph by investing him with the com- 
mand of all the armies in Spain. Under such circumstances, 
he was compelled by a sense of honor to remain at the post 
conferred on him, now become one of difficulty and danger. 



BATTLE OF SALAMANCA AND VITTORIA. 375 

XLIV. 

His first operations were successful ; and by a skillful 
junction of his forces, under Marshal Jourdan, Soult, and 
other French generals, he discomfited the combined English, 
Spanish and Portuguese, on the field of Arapiles, (Sala- 
liianca), taking five or six thousand prisoners. In this 
Dattle, Joseph was at the head of more than 100,000 men. 
Lord Wellington had entered Madrid on the 12th of Au- 
gust, but left it on the 1st of September, and Joseph again 
entered his Capital on the 3d of November, remaining, 
however, but. a single day, previous to the battle above 
mentioned. 

The French army was soon weakened by the loss of 
thirty thousand men, who were recalled to France, and Jo- 
seph received a positive order from Napoleon to leave 
Madrid, and take up the line of the Douro. The relations 
of France and Russia made obedience to this order a mat- 
ter of duty. Compliance was unavoidable, and Joseph imme- 
diately set out for Valladolid. His departure was the signal 
for the advance of Spaniards, Portuguese and English, on 
the French army — enfeebled by the loss of its best officers 
and men. 

The King remained no longer at Yalladolid than was 
necessary for assembling the different corps that were on 
the Tormes, when he resumed his march. Leaving Burgos, 
he passed the Ebro, and took up a position before Yittoria; 
where on the 21st June, 1813, he was attacked by the com- 
bined armies under Lord Wellington, and compelled to 
retreat. The loss of the French was immense — in men, 
artillery and military stores ; the military chest, containing 
five and a half million of dollars, with Joseph's private car- 
riage, also fell into the hands of the victors. 



876 JOSEPH BOXAPARTE. 

XLV. 

Pressed by the solicitations of more than two thousand 
Spanish families who had followed his fortunes, Joseph had 
sent an escort before the battle, to accompany them to 
France, where they arrived in safety. Leaving a garrison 
of four thousand men in Pampeluna, the King effected his 
retreat in good order. The troops of General Foy and 
other forces were united to the mass of the French army, 
which thus became raised to fifty thousand. But Spain was 
lost. In the north, the victories of Bautzen and Lutzen laid 
the spirit of the storm for the moment ; but all the strength 
of France was insufficient to resist the hosts who had con- 
spired against her Emperor. The French armies were with- 
drawn from the peninsula. Joseph proceeded to Paris, and 
at the instigation of Napoleon, renounced all right to the 
Crown of Spain. It was agreed that Ferdinand should 
return to his dominions. Blaquiere, an English writer, 
says that there was at this period a party in the Cortes 
(acknowledging Ferdinand VII. at Cadiz,) who wished to 
transfer the Crown of Spain to the head of. Lord Welling- 
ton ; and that his fears, lest such an event should take place, 
greatly influenced the conduct of the French Emperor. It 
was also said, that had it not been for his anxiety to con- 
ciliate the people of Spain, Napoleon would have restored 
Charles IV. instead of his son. 

XLVI. 

A Treaty was concluded between Napoleon and Ferdi 
nand, at Yalencay, [the 11th December, 1813], by which the 
latter was recognized as legitimate Sovereign of Spain, 
stipulating among other provisions, that those who had fol- 
lowed the fortunes of Joseph, or had held places of trust 
under liim, should be reinstated in their dignities, and have 



FERDINAND RETURNS TO SPAIN. 877 

their confiscated property restored. As the Regency ap' 
jiointed by the Cortes would not acknowledge any stipula- 
tions entered into between the Royal Family and Napoleon, 
while the former remained in France, the Treaty was re- 
turned without being ratified. A correspondence took 
])Iace between Ferdinand and the Regency, and while it was 
carried on. Napoleon, relying on the good faith of the 
former, decided that he should return to his dominions, with- 
out any further guarantee than his own promise to fulfill the 
conditions of the Treaty. Ferdinand therefore returned to 
Spain in the spring of 1814, and entered the Capital in 
May. To the Spaniards who had accompanied Joseph to 
France, he gave the assurance that they should soon return 
to their native country. But he proved false and treache- 
rous to them, to the Cortes, and their adherents. He dis- 
solved the Cortes, re-established despotism, and restored the 
Inquisition ; the party who had sustained King Joseph, 
(called Afrancesdos), were subjected to a series of persecu- 
tions. Joseph's adherents embraced thirty thousand of the 
first families of Spain, who were treated by Ferdinand as a 
distinct and degraded portion of the people, and those re- 
fugees who were in France were prohibited from returning 
to their native country. It was not until the Revolution of 
1820 that the Afrancesdos obtained permission even to cross 
the frontier and return to their families. 

XLVII. 

Blaquiere, the English author before referred to, in his 
History of the Spanish Revolution of 1820, expresses the most 
favorable opinion of the beneficial effects of King Joseph's 
reign in the peninsula, and the rectitude of his intentions, 
ts well as the patriotism of his Spanish adherents, during 
that turbulent period. 



378 JOSEPH BONAPARTE. 

" As to the Constitution of Bayonne," lie says, " most of 
its arti(3les were unexceptionable. The avowed object of 
Napoleon was to conyene the Cortes, which had, it is well 
known, been suspended by the Kings of the Austrian Dy- 
nasty, and completely set aside during that of the Bourbons. 
This admission of a National Congress, elected by the 
people, presented a sure barrier against arbitrary power 
Unlike the former system, the executive and legislative 
power were to be separated ; the judges declared independ- 
ent of the Crown, and such other measures adopted as were 
most likely to check the growth or admit the possibility of 
public abuses. To prove that these were not idle promises, 
it is sufficient to add, that the abolition of the Inquisition ; 
appropriation of church lands to the payment of the public 
creditor, and wants of the state ; sale of national domains ; 
the formation of civil and criminal codes.; public instruc- 
tions removed from those Gothic piles in which it had been 
confined by the depraved and despotic taste of priests and 
schoolmen ; lastly, a powerful influence given to arts, manu- 
factures and commerce — such, and various others equally 
salutary, were amongst the immediate results of the new 
government, though produced during the distractions of a 
rancorous war. With respect to the Ministers of King Jo- 
seph, it would have been impossible for the most ardent 
friend of Spain to make a more excellent selection. 'They 
consisted of men who had been long distinguished for the 
liberality of their sentiments, literary acquirements, and 
superior talents, in all the branches of political knowledge. 
Most of them had filled very high offices under Charles IV., 
and were all more or less exposed to persecution during his 
reign, for their efforts in favor of reform. 

" Besides the solemn ties which bound the adherents of 
Joseph to him as King, this Prince, in addition to an irre- 



379 

proachable private character, and those public virtues 
which he was known to have displayed while at Naples, his 
engaging address, conciliating manners, and evident deter- 
mination to carry the promised reforms into effect, had won 
the hearts of many who were at first violently opposed to 
his accession. Will not posterity inquire whether, had 
Joseph Bonaparte been accepted, it is in the nature of pro- 
babilities, the inquisition, convents, church property, and 
those interminable abuses which followed their restoration 
in 1814, would have been revived, then or at any other 
period of the new dynasty? 

" It was a saying of the Emperor, in speaking of the 
Spanish people, that their descendants would one day raise 
altars to his name. Whatever objections may have been 
made to the particular mode in which Napoleon effected the 
regeneration of this country, it will doubtless be enough for 
posterity to know that the honor belonged to him alone ; 
the principle was unquestionably paramount to every other 
consideration, and if there ever existed a case in politics 
or morals wherein the end justified the means, that of 
rescuing a whole people from the lowest and most abject 
state of misery and degradation is certainly not among the 
least exceptionable. 

" I cannot help observing that the spoliations of human 
lives and territory effected by the various European Con- 
gresses, held since the abdication of Napoleon, run the risk 
of being regarded in an infinitely worse light by future 
generations, than his enterprise against Spain ; inasmuch as 
that the latter was undertaken for the avowed and express 
purpose of improving the institutions of an enslaved people, 
weighed down by centuries of oppression, and of whom 
numbers of the most virtuous and enlightened espoused 
the cause of the foreign Prince ; whereas, it is well kuowa, 



880 JOSEPH BONAPARTE. 

that neither Poland, Naples, Genoa, Lombardy, Venice 
Saxony, Ragusa, Sicily, nor Spain herself, were restored to 
their old masters for any other purpose than the renewal of 
the former tyrannies, destroyed by the victorious arms of 
Bonaparte.'' 

XL VIII. 

The War in the Peninsula ended after six years of con- 
inual struggle, and was one of the most sanguinary conflicts 
on record. It cost the French about 250,000 men, and it 
was a heavy drain upon the imperial treasury. The British 
losses in* men and money were also great, and the sacrifices 
of the Spaniards and Portuguese were in due proportion. 
But Spain suffered most in the restoration of the Bourbons, 
and the check given to those salutary reforms which had 
been introduced by Napoleon and Joseph, and, if carried out, 
would doubtless have elevated her in the scale of nations. 

" Joseph's policy, (says Louis Napoleon, in an essay on 
his life and character), which best suited the goodness of his 
heart and the philosophical turn of his mind, was all pacific. 
Events only obliged him to be a soldier. Although he was 
not wanting in courage or the decision of character requi- 
site in the critical events of the war ; he could not ahvays 
impress on the different corps of the army that necessity 
for union so indispensable to success. Still, Joseph did all 
the good in his power in the short interval that the cares 
of the war left him, and his effort^ were especially directed 
to the avoidance of bloodshed, and to receiving the crown 
with the free consent of the Spanish people. Supported by 
the consent of all the Spaniards assembled at Bayonne 
Joseph thought that the Iberian soil was equally ripe for re- 
generation as that of Naples had proved. Faithful to his 
original principles, wishing to make use of gentle methods 
only for establishing his authority, he begged iiis b-other 



JOSEPH. HEAD OF THE EEGEXCY OF FRANCE. 381 

to withdraw all the French troops from Spain, feeling cer- 
tain of obtaining the support of the people without foreign 
trooDS, and trusting to the success of a frank appeal to the 
chivalrous character of the Spaniards. If the course of 
events warred against this proposition, we must at least 
icknowledge its grandeur, and that it was not power alone 
that Joseph coveted, but the welfare of Spain." 

XLTX. 

At St. Helena, Napoleon informed Las Casas, that towards 
the close of the year 1813, he yielded to the former proposal 
of Ferdinand to choose a wife for him, and his marriage with 
the eldest daughter of Joseph was decided upon ; but cir- 
cumstances had then changed, and Ferdinand was desirous 
that the marriage should be deferred. " You can no 
longer,'' he observed, " support me with your arms, and I 
ought not to make my wife a title of exclusion in the eyes 
of my people.'' The Emperor assured Las Casas, that had 
the affairs of 1814 turned out differently, Ferdinand would 
unquestionably have accomplished his marriage with Jo- 
seph's daughter. 

In January, 1814, when Napoleon left, to put himself at 
the head of the army in Germany, he appointed Joseph Lieu- 
tenant-General of the Empire, and placed him at the head 
of the Council of Regency, which was to assist the Empress 
Regent, Maria Louisa. If the events of the war should in- 
tercept all communication between the Imperial head-quar- 
ters and Paris, and the Capital be approached by the 
enemies of France, Joseph had instructions from tlie Empe- 
ror, to remove the Empress and her son, and to proceed 
with them to the Loire. The letter, on this subject, from 
Napoleon, is as follows : 



382 ^ JOSEPH BONAPARTE. 

''Eheims, 16th March, 1814. 
" To King Joseph : 

" Agreeable to the verbal instructions I have given to you^ 
as well as to the spirit of all my letters, you must not, in any 
case, suffer the Empress and the King of Rome to fall into 
the hands of the enemy. I am about to maneuvre in such a 
manner that it is possible you may be some days without 
having news from me. If the enemy advances upon Paris, 
with such a force that all resistance would be impossible, 
send off in the direction of the Loire, the Eegent, my son, 
the grand Dignitaries, the Ministers, the officers of the 
Senate, Presidents of the Council of State, great officers of 
the Crown, with the Baron de la Bouillerie, and the Trea- 
surer. Do not quit my son for a moment — and recollect, 
that I would prefer learning that he was in the Seine, than 
in the hands of the enemies of France. The fate of As- 
tyanax, prisoner amongst the Greeks, has always seemed to 
me to be the most unhappy one recorded in history. 

" Your affectionate Brother, Napoleon." 

L. 

When the Allied Army approached Paris, Joseph con- 
sulted with the Ministers and Council of State, and it was 
decided that the government should be removed to Chartres, 
and thence to the Loire. The Empress and her son, with 
the Court, were sent to Chartres on the 28th of March. The 
next morning, Joseph accompanied by the Ministers of War 
and others, left Paris to investigate the actual state of affairs. 
After the battle of the 30th, in which the troops outside of 
Paris were driven in by the Allies, Marshal Marmont told 
Joseph that he was too weak to defend the Capital, and Jo- 
seph authorized him to treat for a suspension of arms, and 
the preservation of the city. Passing through Versailles. 



JOSEPH RETIRES TO SWITZERLAND. 

Joseph ordered the cavalry in that city to folio V7 him, and 
proceeded to Chartres, where he found the Empress, and 
escorted her to Blois. 

After Napoleon's abdication at Fontainbleau, Joseph and 
Fiis brother Jerome thought of removing the Empress and 
the regency to the south of France ; but the Empress refused, 
and was supported in her refusal by the members of the 
household. Soon after, she rejoined her father, the Em- 
peror of Austria, the regency was dissolved, and Joseph set 
out for Switzerland, where he purchased the estate of 
Prangins, near Lausanne, on the banks of La¥e Leman. 
From thence he corresponded with Napoleon at Elba, and 
with Murat at Naples. He was said to have advised Murat 
to declare war against Austria, in 1815, so as to make a 
diversion in favor of Napoleon. He informed his brother, 
the Emperor, that several assassins had been sent from Paris 
to Elba to murder him. This warning caused the arrest of 
two persons in that island, who acknowledged their criminal 
intentions, and named the instigators of the affair. 

LI. 

During the Hundred Days, Joseph entered confidentially 
into the plans and hopes of the Emperor. On hearing of 
the arrival of his brother at Grenoble, on his return from 
Elba, he hastened to join him ; and taking with him his 
daughter, he arrived at Paris the 22d of March. He sug- 
gested to Napoleon the idea of sending a confidential person 
to Pozzo-di-Borgo, to make the effort to gain him over to 
his cause, and to use his influence to divide the coalition at 
the Congress of Vienna. The Envoy, who was the bearer 
of five million of francs and the promise of a high station in 
Corsica, arrived too late. Pozzo-di-Borgo, tempted by these 
offers, replied, " I have just left the Congress — I have ex- 



384 JOSEPH BONAPARTE. 

eried all my powers to stir up the Congress agaiust the 
Emperor. I cannot now undo what I have done. Why 
did you not arrive some hours sooner ?" 

The wife of Joseph, and Hortense, the ex-Queen of Hol- 
land, were among the ladies who welcomed Napoleon at the 
Tuilleries on his return from Elba. Joseph, as a Prince of 
France, took his seat in the House of Peers, while his 
brother Lucien sat in the Cham.ber of Deputies. In these 
positions they acted during the absence of Napoleon at the 
Field of Waterloo. After the disastrous result of the 
campaign and the return of the Emperor, followed quickly 
by his abdication in June, Joseph and Lucien succeeded in 
influencing the Chambers to decide in favor of the continu- 
ance of the Empire, and Napoleon the Second, in whose 
favor his father had abdicated, was proclaimed Emperor of 
the French. The ex-Emperor declared, that, if his son was 
recognized as his successor, his political life would close, 
and that he would retire as a private individual to the 
United States. The proclamation of the King of Rome as 
Emperor, however, proved a delusion, and in a few days the 
Bourbons returned to Paris. Two frigates — the Saale and 
Medusa — were placed by the provisional government at the 
disposal of Napoleon, and they were anchored under the 
batteries of the Isle of Aix. But his hesitation and delay 
made the provision useless. 

While he w-as on the road to Rochefort, Joseph had come 
incognito to Niort, to take leave of his brother, after which 
he set out for Saintes, intending to retire to a country-seat 
in the interior of France, to await the determination of the 
fate of his family. Joseph was compromised by one of the 
garde du corps, who raised a mob against him and some 
j)ersons in the suite of the Emperor, on their way to 
Saintes. The movement was suppressed by the Natiojial 



Joseph's flight from France. 385 

Guard, who caused both the persons and carriages to be set 
at liberty. 

LIT. 

On the 13th July, Joseph went to the Isle of Aix, once 
more to embrace his brother, and bid him farewell. He 
had made sure of his own departure from Bourdeaux to 
America, and he now came to beseech him to take ad- 
vantage of their close resemblance, to offer to remain in his 
stead in the Isle of Aix, and to assure him that his de- 
parture from Bourdeaux and his voyage to America would 
meet with no obstacles whatever, as his measures were well 
taken. The Emperor declined this generous offer. He 
would not consent that his brother should expose himself 
to dangers which belonged to his destiny alone ; and there- 
fore he forced Joseph to leave the Isle of Aix, and gain the 
mouth of the Gironde, whilst the communications were still 
sufficiently open, he might avoid the risk of falling into the 
hands of the royalists. 

Taking, th^i^efore, a final adieu of his brother, Joseph, 
after lingering in the vicinity of Rochefort until he heard 
from Bertrand that Napoleon was on board of the Bellero- 
phon — proceeded to Bourdeaux, where he embarked in an 
American brig bound for Charleston, S. C. The vessel 
landed him at New York in September following. His 
wife and daughters remained in France. The dread of a 
sea-voyage prevented the former from ever crossing the 
Atlantic, to join her husband in his exile. 

LTII. 

On his arrival at New York, he found all the hotels 
thronged with guests ; Mr. Jennings of the City Hotel 
told him that he had given his last suite of rooms to Mr. 
Clay, who had just returned from the mission to negotiate 



386 JOSEPH BONAPARTE. 

the Treaty of Ghent. When Mr. Clay heard of the circum* 
stance he immediately introduced Joseph to his apartments ; 
and as they entered the room where dinner for Mr. Clay's 
party had been provided, the American statesman said, 
"And here is a dinner ready for yourself and your suited 
The oourteous offer was accepted, and an acquaintance so 
pleasantly begun, ever after continued. He traveled ex- 
tensively through the United States, and was everywhere 
received with the respect and attention which Americans 
always show to strangers of distinction, particularly to 
those who seek an asylum among us. Chiefly from his 
civil list while in Naples and Madrid, he had saved a large 
fortune. A large proportion of the funds he brought with 
him to America he invested in public securities and in real 
estate, the latter for the most part ending disastrously. 

Having decided to fix his residence in New Jersey, he 
applied to the Legislature of that State for permission to 
hold real estate. His request was immediately complied 
with, and the announcement made to him. officially in a 
cordial letter from Governor Dickerson. 

A similar act was also passed [July, 1825,] by the Legisla- 
ture of New York. In his petition the Count states, that 
" he is not in a position to profit by the law which offers 
him the honorable and precious title of an American citizen, 
and thereby confer upon him the right of holding land. * He 
must continue to be a Frenchman." 

These facts are interesting, inasmuch as they show th 
kind disposition entertained towards Joseph in this country 
and that he considered himself as possibly in temporary 
exile, awaiting in America the change of events in Europe, 
which might recall the Napoleon Dynasty to power, and 
therefore forbade his expatriation by becoming an American 
citizen. 



RESIDENCE AT BORDENTOWN. 387 

The place selected for his country-residence lay on the 
bank of the Delaware, at Point Breeze, near Bordentown, 
N. J., about twenty miles north-east of Philadelphia. He 
purchased nine or ten adjoining farms, laid out and adorned 
an extensive park, built roads and bridges, and erected a 
vast edifice, on the plan of an Italian palace, with a court- 
yard open on one side. This superb mansion was enriched 
oy his entire collection of paintings, busts, statues, precious 
stones, ancient relics, and curiosities, which he had amassed 
in France, Italy and Spain. Every luxury which wealth 
could purchase, and every appliance of comfort and taste, 
which art, learning and refinement could suggest, adorned 
and embellished this Palatial seat of hospitality. At Borden- 
town alone he expended on his estate nearly a million of 
dollars. He had brought with him m^ost of his old secre- 
taries and servants ; they remained faithfully attached to 
him through life, and those he had not enriched while 
living were left independent at his death. 

LIV. 

He maintained the same domestic habits as in former 
years. Like all the Bonapartes, he rose early, and did his 
work in the morning. He remained in his library, engaged 
in reading and writing, till eleven, when he met his friends 
at breakfast, which usually occupied half an hour. He then 
generally went over his grounds, to give directions about 
the improvements in progress. Dinner came at five o'clock ; 
and his table was almost sure to be surrounded by distin- 
guished guests. 

Of all his brothers, Joseph looked most like the Emperor. 
He was exactly five feet nine inches and a half in height. 
His manners were full of grace, elegance, and blandness ; 
his heart was full of humane feelino^s ; his mind was well 



888 JOSEPH BONAPARTE. 

balanced, and all his views of life were moderate and cheer- 
ful. Wherever he was known he was respected , and those 
who loved him once loved him always. 

In his new residence he at once acquired the influence and 
esteem always accorded to an illustrious man of great wealth 
and unpretending and prepossessing manners, generosity and 
hospitality. Carefully abstaining from all interference with 
the political concerns of America, he drew around him many 
of the exiles from France, who, having followed the fortunes 
of the Napoleon Dynasty, came to seek a refuge in the 
United States. Clauzel, Desmonettes, Lallemand and other 
distinguished Frenchmen, received constant proofs of the 
goodness of his heart. Napoleon having made an appeal 
to his family from St. Helena, that each member should con- 
tribute towards his required wants, Joseph unhesitatingly 
offered his whole fortune to his brother. The Emperor took 
but little advantage of this generous offer. 

LY. 

His stately mansion at Bordentown was consumed by tire 
on the 4tli January, 1820. It originated in the fourth story, 
so that, though the house was totally destroyed, the rich 
furniture, and especially the paintings, were saved. On 
this occasion the neighbors showed their good will, by their 
anxious efforts to save his property. He returned his thanks 
to them, in the following letter to one of the magistrates of 
Bordentown : — 

Point Breeze, January 8, 1820. 

To William Snowden, Esq., ) 
Bordentown, N. J. ^ 

" Sir, — You have shown so much interest for me since I 

have been in this country, and especially since the event of 

. the 4th inst., that I cannot doubt it will afford you pleasure 



Joseph's mansion burned. 389 

to make known to your fellow-citizens how much I feel all 
they did for me on that occasion. Absent myself from my 
house, they collected by a spontaneous movement on the 
first appearance of the fire, which they combated with 
united courage and perseverance; and when they found it 
was impossible to extinguish it, exerted themselves to save 
all the flames had not devoured before their arrival and 
mine. 

" All the furniture, statues, pictures, money, plate, gold, 
jewels, linen, books ; and in short, everything that was 
not consumed ; has been most scrupulously delivered into 
the hands of the people of my house. In the night, of the 
fire, and during the next day, there were brought to me, by 
laboring men, drawers, in which I have found the proper 
quantity of pieces of money, and medals of gold, and 
valuable jewels, which might have been taken with impunity. 
This event has proved to me how much the inhabitants of 
Bordentown appreciate the interest I have always felt for 
them ; and shows that men in general are good, when they 
have not been perverted in their youth, by a bad education ; 
when they maintain their dignity as men, and feel that true 
greatness is in the soul, and depends upon ourselves. 

" I cannot omit, on this occasion, what I have said so 
often, that the Americans are, without contradiction, the 
most happy people I have known ; still more happy if they 
understand well their own happiness. 

" I pray you not to doubt of my sincere regard. 

" Joseph, 

" Count de Survilliers." 

LVI. 

The mansion, afterwards rebuilt in an unpretending and 
plain style, still continued to be his residence, and the abode 



390 JOSEPH BONAPAETE. 

of hospitality. It was constantly yisited by Americans and 
foreigners, anxious to see and converse with the distin- 
guished exile. He not only received visitors graciously, 
but often presented to his friends as tokens of regard, spe- 
cimens from his collections of art and relics of the days 
when the Bonapartes were on the thrones of Europe. 

Of course he participated in the deep grief felt by all the 
relatives of Napoleon, when the intelligence of the death 
of that great man in exile reached them. The son of the 
deceased Emperor was still in captivity, and Joseph thought 
it his duty to ask permission of the Austrian Court to visit 
the Duke de Reichstadt, and administer to him the advice 
and consolation of his father's elder brother and tried 
friend. But Metternich refused the request. 

LVII. 

During his residence on the Delaware, [Louis Napoleon in- 
forms us], Joseph received a proposition which surprised 
as much as it must have affected him. A deputation from 
Mexico came to offer him the Mexican Crown. . He replied 
to the deputation : — " I have worn two Crowns ; I Avould 
not take a step to wear a third. Nothing can gratify me 
more than to see men who would not recognize my authority 
when I was at Madrid, now come to seek me in exile ; but I 
do not think that the throne you wish to raise again can 
make you happy. Every day I pass in this hospitable land, 
proves more clearly to me the excellence of republican in- 
etitutions for America. Keep them, as a precious gift from 
Heaven ; settle your internal commotions ; follow the ex- 
ample of the United States ; and seek among your fellow- 
citizens a man more capable than I am of acting the great 
part of Washington." 

When Lafayette came to the United States, in 1824, he 



LAFAYETTE VISITS JOSEPH. 391 

visited Joseph at Bordentown. On that occasion (Joseph says) 
that Lafayette expressed to him his regret at the part he 
had taken in 1815, in effecting the restoration of the Bour- 
bons, and observed, " The Bourbon dynasty cannot last ! it too 
openly wounds the national feeling. In France we are all 
persuaded that the son of the Emperor alone can represent 
all the interests of the Revolution. Place two millions at 
the disposal of our committee, (in Paris), and I promise you 
that, with this sum, in two years, Napoleon II, will be on 
the throne of France." Joseph thought the means inade- 
quate to the object to be attained, and did not accept the 
proposition of Lafayette. 

But when, in 1830, the tidings reached Joseph that France 
had again raised the tri-color, the hopes of himself and 
friends were strong that the nation would declare in favor 
of Young Napoleon, as the successor of Charles X. When 
those hopes were dissipated by the elevation of Louis Phil- 
lipe to the throne, Joseph reminded Lafayette, in a letter, 
of their conversation six years before, and urged him to use 
his influence to obtain the repeal of the law which excluded 
the Bonapartes from France, and expressed his disappoint- 
ment in the preference given to the House of Orleans, when 
the nation had clearly made known its wishes in favor of the 
son of Napoleon, in 1815. Lafayette replied, in November, 
1830, expressing his good feelings towards Joseph, and 
declaring that he had used his efforts to obtain permission 
for the Bonapartes to return. He also frankly stated his 
objections to the restoration of the Empire, and the Napo- 
leon Dynasty. 

LVIII. 

Joseph also [in Sept., 1830,] addressed to the Chamber 
of Deputies a protest against the occupation of the throne 
of France, by a Prince of the House of Bourbon, when the 



892 JOSEPH BONAP.iRTE. 

family of Napoleon had been called to power by three mil 
lions, five hundred thousand votes. " If the nation (says he,) 
thinks it for its interest to make another choice, it has the 
power, and the right — but the nation alone. Napoleon II, 
was proclaimed by the Chamber of Deputies in 1815, which 
was dissolved by foreign bayonets. So far, gentlemen, 
you are bound to Napoleon II., and until Austria has given 
him up to the wishes of the French, I offer to share your 
dangers, your efforts, your undertakings, and on his arrival 
to transmit to hiia the wishes, the example, and the last dis- 
positions of his father, who died a victim to his enemies on 
the rock of St. Helena." 

This letter was not read to the Chamber. The new 
government was inaugurated without consulting the people ; 
so that, not being founded either on hereditary right, or 
popular election, it sustained itself with difficulty, until 
overthrown by the Revolution of 1848. 

LIX. 

After the death of Napoleon's son, Joseph left the United 
States, and took up his residence in England, [1832], where 
he was joined by his brothers Lucien and Jerome, and his 
nephew Louis Napoleon. With the latter he agreed gene- 
rally on great questions, but disapproved of his propensity 
to hasty action, in trying to accelerate events. Being 
much displeased and disgusted with the charges m.ade 
against him in England of participating in the affair of Stras- 
bourgh, he returned to America in 1837, and took up his 
former residence at Bordentown. In 1839, he again em- 
barked for Europe, and finding Louis Napoleon in England, 
and being enlightened as to the means and prospects of his 
nephew, the latter was fully restored to his confidence and 
affection. The publication of the Idees A^awleoniennes gained 



Joseph's last days and death. 393 

his approbation, and lie said that work was the exact and 
faithful report of his brother's political ideas. 

He preserved his strength, energy and mental powers, 
till 1840, when he suffered from a paralytic attack, from 
which he never afterwards recovered. He tried the baths 
of Germany, and afterwards returned to England. Event- 
ually he obtained permission to go to Florence, which 
climate he hoped might re-establish his health. The mis- 
fortunes of his family engrossed much of his thoughts during 
his latter years, and he constantly expressed his regrets at 
the injustice of France in permitting so many men who had 
served the nation faithfully, to die in exile. 

LX. 

Says Louis Napoleon — " Attended by the Queen Julie, 
whose devotion failed not to the last, and who was ever a com- 
forting, angel, as well as by his brothers, Louis and Jerome, 
whom he loved affectionately, he expired gently ; and as 
a righteous man, he would have seen the approach of death 
without regret, if the phantom of exile had not intruded 
even on his last moments, to wring his heart and poison his 
last farewell. 

" Joseph died at Florence, on the 28th of July, 1844, at 
nine o'clock in'the morning, (aged 76 years), and the intelli- 
gence of his death was a subject of bitter regret not only to 
his family, but to all those who had known and cared for 
him. One of the sad effects of exile is, that although a 
general feeling of regret was evident in Paris, (an absence 
of twenty-nine years had naturally thinned the numbers of 
those who, in France, were personally attached to him), it 
was probably at Florence, in the United States, and even in 
London, that the most genuine tears were shed for the 
death of Napoleon's brother." 



S94 JOSEPH BONAPARTE. 

" Like all men who have a long past and a short future, 
Joseph delighted in recalling the events he had witnessed, 
and the episodes which he related with a peculiar charm, 
interested every one by their great simplicity, or startling 
earnestness. He had a fine memory, and had read a great 
deal, knowing by heart all the most beautiful parts of th 
classic authors. Although he always conducted himself 
with honor and tact, if he did not shine with all tlie bril 
liancy that might have been expected from his talents, it 
was because he was of a placable nature, and from his 
chancing to be born at a revolutionary period, he was 
obliged to become one of the chief instruments of a policy 
of war, independence, and absolute power, whilst his own 
feelings were in favor of a liberal constitution. The struggle 
of the people in 1789, against the old dynasty had made a 
deep impression on his mind. The Crowns of Naples and 
Spain were only accessory events to him. The Empire 
itself was only an episode in the midst of a great- revolu- 
tionary drama, which had moved his whole soul. The 
adulations, the honors, the charms even of powder, which he 
had enjoyed, like so many others, had glided past him with- 
out reaching his heart, and under the purple as under the 
cloak of exile, the man remained the same — a valiant ad- 
versary of all oppression, of all privileges, and of all 
abuses — a passionate defender of equality and of the liberty 
of the people. It is evident, if his participation in the 
events which illustrated the Eepublic and the Empire, are 
lost sight of, beside the immense deeds of his brother that 
they are so, not from the insignificance of his own efforts, 
but because everything seems diminutive beside a giant. 
But if, in the present day, a man existed among us, who, as 
a deputy, diplomatist, king, citizen, or soldier, had constantly 
distinguished himself by his patriotism and brilliant q.uali 



CHARACTER OF JOSEPH. 395 

ties, if lie had gained battles and illumined two thrones 
with the torch of French ideas; if, in fine, in good or in 
evil fortune, he had always remained faithful to his vows, to 
his country, and to his friends ; that man, we say, would 
hold the highest place in the public opinion. Statues would 
be erected to him, and civic crowns would adorn his gray 
hairs." 

Joseph left most of his estate, now very much reduced, to 
his widow, and his daughter, the wife of Prince of Canino, 
a son of Lucien. His second daughter married her cousin 
Charles Louis, (son o* Louis Ex-King of Holland), who 
died in 1830. Julie, widow of Joseph, died at Florence, 
April T, 1845. 



BOOK Yl. 



LUCIEI BONAPARTE, 

Born at Ajaccio, Corsica, 1775 ; Died at Viterbo, in Italy, 
July 29, 1840. 




LUCIEN BONAPARTE. 



LUCIEN BONAPARTE. 



I. 



A SEEiES of tableaux of the Bonaparte Family, would 
contain one, showing the three elder brothers in their early 
days, in consultation on their prospects in life, and the means 
of sustaining those members of the family who were depend- 
ent on their exertions. The elder of these brothers, though 
anxious, is cheerful, confident, affectionate, and wise in 
council ; the second is thoughtful, ardent, and desirous for a 
wider theatre than Corsica for the display of his conscious 
abilities, but willing to listen to the advice of his brothers ; 
the third, filled with patriotic fervor, and gifted with orato- 
rical powers, is anxious to engage in the cause of the Revo- 
lution then breaking out. Fate subsequently linked the for- 
tunes of the three brothers, and events proved that although 
widely different in their characters, they were mutually de- 
pendent on each other for success in life, during the most 
important parts of their momentous career. 

II. 

Lucien, the third son of Carlo Bonaparte, was six years 
younger than Napoleon. His birth-day is not recorded with 
that of the other members of the family, nor does Lucien 
nimself mention it in his own memoirs. 

His father, who died when Lucien was in his tenth year, 
.had previously sent him to school in France. After having 
been alternately for some time at the College of Autun, at 
the Military School of Brienne, and lastly at the Seminary 



400 LUCIEN BONAPARTE. 

of Aix, in Provence, Lucien returned to Corsica. He was 
destined for the ecclesiastical profession, at the request of 
the Abbe Bonaparte, one of his relations, who promised to 
resign in his favor a canonicate of the Order of St. Stephen, 
at Florence. The young man, however, soon determined to 
change the course marked out for him, and not to enter a 
profession for which he doubtless felt he had not the re- 
quisite qualifications. 

On his return from College, he had been only a month 
with his mother at Corsica, when the French Revolution 
opened. The education of the Bonaparte brothers on the 
Continent, and other circumstances, had, says Lucien, ren- 
dered the family entirely French. 

Lucien, a youth of fifteen, threw himself into the popular 
societies which were formed in the island, with enthusiasm, 
fired with the great names of antiquity. 

When Corsica, under Paoli, renounced France, [April, 
1793], Lucien was sent as chief of the deputation of the 
French Party at Ajaccio, to get aid from the Jacobin clubs 
at Marseilles and Paris. 

III. 

A favorable wind wafted the Corsican delegation to the 
French coast in twenty-four hours. Lucien had abandoned 
his unfinished studies a few years, beforehand he was now 
to re-appear among the French, charged with a political 
mission. " My vanity," says he, " was exalted to so high 
a pitch, that I fancied myself a person of sufficient impor- 
tance to attract the notice of the crowd at the port of Mar- 
seilles, where we landed in the evening. Great was our 
anxiety to arrive at the place of meeting of the popular 
club. In a vast saloon, which admitted very little light, 
were seated the members of the club, with red caps on their 



LUCIBN AMONG THE JACOBINS. 401 

heads. The galleries were filled with noisy women. The 
president announced that a deputation of patriots from 
Corsica were bearers of important news, and I was called 
to the tribune. I began by declaring that the nation was 
betrayed in Corsica, and that we had come to invoke the 
aid of our brothers. It was not only a speedy succor that J 
demanded, but I painted Paoli as having abused the national 
confidence, and that he had only returned to the Island to 
deliver it up to the English. They, above all, were not 
spared in my figures of rhetoric. It was the chord most 
likely to touch the feelings of my auditors, and I made it 
my favorite theme. I was overpowered with embraces and 
compliments. Motion upon motion followed. An order for 
printing my speech ; a message to the administrators of the 
departments to send troops to the aid of Ajaccio ; a deputa- 
tion of three members to accompany us to the Jacobins of 
Paris, to denounce the treason of Paoli, and demand ven- 
geance — all these measures were adopted with urgency and 
unanimity. My colleagues not having sufficient funds for 
the journey to Paris, I determined upon accompanying the 
deputies of Marseilles alone, and we left the assembly to- 
gether at midnight." 

lY. 

On Ms way to the Inn to pass the night, Lucien found that 
the Marseilles deputies who were to accompany him to 
Paris, were men of repulsive aspect, savage language and 
rulgar manners. After a disturbed sleep, he awoke, discon- 
tented and undecided as to the projected journey. His new 
friends invited him to breakfast with them at the cafe. In 
passing through the Cannebriere, he saw the guillotine at 
work. Several of the wealthiest merchants of the city had 
perished that morning ; " and that crowd, (says he), whom 



402 LUCIEX BONAPARTE. 

tlieir bounty had so often fed, were then walking in the 
streets of the Cannebriere to enjoy the spectacle ! the shops 
were full of customers as usual, and the cafes were open ! 
Never shall I forget the first time I walked in the streets 
of Marseilles. 

" I left the cafe as soon as possible, and I declared the next 
day that I would not go to Paris ; that the deputies of the 
Marseilles Club did not want me to accompany them to 
fulfill their mission, and that I should await the promised 
succors, to return to Corsica with my companions.'^ 

A few days after, Letitia with her family, having fled from 
Corsica, arrived at Marseilles, where they obtained assist- 
ance from the government, as refugee patriots. The three 
elder brothers soon obtained public employment — Napoleon 
as an officer of artillery, Joseph in the commissary depart- 
ment, and Lucien in the administration of military subsist- 
ences at St. Maximin, a small town a few leagues from Mar- 
seilles. 

At St. Maximin, Lucien acquired great influence as a 
popular orator, passing his evenings at the Patriotic club, 
where the whole town came to hear the speeches of the 
young Corsican refugee ; and, although not nineteen years 
of age, he was soon chosen president of the revolutionary 
committee of the place. The women, rich and poor, came 
regularly to the sittings of the club, bringing with them 
their work ; and all worked, that they might not be accused 
of aristocracy, and joined in chorus with the men in ap 
plauding Lucien, and in singing patriotic songs. 

" How many times," says he, " have I thanked Providence 
for not having abandoned me to the intoxication of so extra- 
ordinary a position, so dangerous at my age, and for having 
surrounded me with plain and simple persons, ready to assist 
me in the good intentions with which I had inspired them, 



IMPRISONMENT AND RELEASE OF LUCIEN. 408 

as they would have been equally ready to aid me, had I been 
inclined to commit excesses ; for in those moments of demo- 
cratic despotism, (the worst of all despotisms), the power of 
an orator, as long as he commands popular favor, is stronger 
than public conscience. I have often looked back upon my- 
self, and I have felt that my good sentiments were power- 
fully seconded by favorable circumstances. I was a refugee 
patriot, and a martyr to the revolutionary cause ; these titles 
placed me beyond the reach of being suspected of aristocracy 
and" of moderation. I could to a certain point brave the 
most prevailing prejudices, and follow the right road. It is 
by far the worst of all social states, where an honest man is 
exposed to become criminal — where the fate of every one is 
at the mercy of all — where we are never certain of what we 
may say, what we may do, or what will become of us on the 
morrow." 

V. 

His position at St. Maximin and influence with the people, 
enabled Lucien to exert himself with effect in the cause of 
humanity. At one time he exposed himself to imminent 
peril, in saving thirty unfortunate individuals accused of 
royalism, whom the agent of Robespierre in the south of 
France wanted to remove to the prisons of Orange, where 
the guillotine was in constant activity. By Lucien's order 
the captives were released, and the agent departed. 

On the fall of Robespierre, [1794], and the reaction which 
took place in the South of France against the Jacobins, 
Lucien was arrested, on account of his speeches and his 
political course, and one of those whom he had saved from 
the guillotine proved most hostile. After six weeks con- 
finement in the prison of Aix, he was released, by the 
influence of Napoleon with Barras, one of the Directory, 
and retired to Marseilles. While at St. Maximin, when it 



404 LUCIEN BONAPARTE. 

was tlie fashion to take antique names, Lucien assumed the 
name of Brutus, and the other members of the republicau 
committee followed his example by taking Roman or Greek 
names. The town of St. Maximin they called Marathon. 

Contracting a marriage engagement with Christine 
Boyer, the daughter of an Inn-keeper at St. Maximin, during 
his residence there, Lucien married her, in 1795, being then 
about 20 years of age. Portionless as was his wife, he was 
fondly attached to her ; she was beautiful and amiable, and 
so sanguine was his temperament he found consolation for 
present indigence in visions of future proserity. 

YI. 

On Napoleon's elevation to the command of the army of 
the Interior, Lucien went to Paris, [1795], and through his 
brother's influence, he was appointed commissary-o.f-war to 
the army of the Rhine under Moreau, which he joined after 
a month in the Capital. His wife accompanied him, and 
Joseph welcomed the young couple to his house, where they 
remained until they set out for the army. At head-quarters 
he was fond of making speeches, and frequently got into 
quarrels with those who differed with him in politics. But 
his relationship to the commander of the army of Italy, 
which had then achieved the glories of its first campaign, 
and the friendship of the generals of the army of the Rhine, 
caused the indolence of Lucien to be overlooked, and his 
political discussions to be excused. Having obtained per 
mission to leave the army at the north, Lucien repaired to 
Italy, and having received the instructions of Napoleon, 
departed for Corsica. On arriving in his native town, he 
solicited the suffrages of his fellow-citizens of the depart- 
ment of Liamone, to represent them in the Council of Five 
Hundred as soon as he should be eligible, and he was accord- 



PRESIDES OVER THE COUNCIL OF FIVE HUNDRED. 405 

inglv elected by the people a member of that body, in Feb- 
ruary, 1798, for a term of three years. Joseph was pre- 
viously, through the influence of Lucien, elected from Cor- 
sica to the same Council. 

VII. 

On taking his seat in the Council, [May, 1798], he was 
welcomed with a favor due entirely to the enthusiasm the 
members felt for Napoleon. Napoleon had invited Lucien 
to accompany him in the expedition to Egypt, but he pre- 
ferred to engage in a Legislative career. He did not take 
a decided part at first in the Council, but pursued an inde- 
pendent course. His first votes were generally favorable to 
the government, but the Directory was destined to a speedy 
downfall, and Lucien at last found that it was no longer 
possible to sustain its weakness and incapacity. He allied 
himself with Sieyes and his party, who were scheming for a 
new Constitution. While Napoleon was in Egypt, Lucien 
wrote to him, complaining of the misgovernment of the Di- 
rectory and urging him to return to France. His letters 
were said to have been intercepted by the English cruisers. 

A few months after becoming a member, Lucien was 
elected Secretary of the Council of Five Hundred ; his in- 
fluence soon increased, and he formed a party, which pro- 
moted the views of his brother, on the 18th Brumaire. Not 
long before that memorable day, the Council appointed him 
their President, partly, however, as a mark of respect to 
Napoleon. The event proved how important this appoint- 
ment was to the fortunes of his brother. After Napoleon's 
return from Egypt, in October, 1799, Lucien became the 
active leader of those who wished to overturn the Directory. 
Up to the 19th Brumaire, and especially on that day, Lucien 
e inced a degree of activity, intelligence, courage and pre 



406 LUCIEN BONAPARTE. 

sence of mind, rarely found in one man. Bourienne, who 
was present on the occasion, says he has no hesitation in 
stating that to Lucien's nomination as President of the 
Council, and his exertions, must be attributed the success of 
the 19th Brumaire. 

These two Chambers assembled at St. Cloud ; Lucien a 
President of the Council of Five Hundred, read a letter of 
resignation from Barras, one of the Directory ; which body 
therefore, no longer existed. Sieyes and Roger Ducos had 
joined Bonaparte's party ; Gohier and Moulins, two other 
members, were under arrest, and in the custody of General 
Moreau 

After Napoleon had left the Hall, Lucien endeavored to 
restore tranquillity. As soon as he could make himself 
heard, he said, " The scene which has just taken place in the 
Council proves what are the sentiments of all — sentiments 
which I declare are also mine. It was, however, natural to 
believe that the General had no other object than to render 
an account of the situation of affairs, and of something in- 
teresting to the public. But I think none of you can sup 
pose him capable of projects hostile to liberty." 

VIII. 

" Lucien's address," says Bourienne, " was interrupted bj 
acclamations against Napoleon. He made further efforts to 
be heard ; and calling Casal to the President's chair, ad 
dressed the Council as a member. He begged that the 
general might be again introduced, and heard with calm 
ness. This proposition was furiously opposed, amidst cries 
of ' Outlaw Bonaparte ! Outlaw him !' Lucien, who had 
resumed the President's chair, left it again, that he miglit 
not be constrained to put the question of outlawry demanded 
against his brother. Braving the displeasure of the Coun- 



LUCIEN, ON THE XmETEENTH BRUMAIRE 407 

nil, he mounted the tribunal, resigned the Presidency, re- 
nounced his seat as a deputy, and threw aside his robes." 

Napoleon sent in soldiers to the assistance of his brother, 
and they carried him off from the midst of the Council. 
Lucien was reinstalled in office, but was now to discharge 
his duties on horseback, and at the head of a body of sol- 
diers ready to obey his commands. Roused by the danger 
to which his brother and himself were exposed, he mounted 
his horse, and addressed the citizens and military as fol- 
lows : — 
" Citizens, Soldiers, — 

" The President of the Council of Five Hundred declares 
to you, that the majority of that Council is at this moment 
held in terror by a few representatives of the people, who 
are armed with stilettos, and who surround the tribune, 
threatening their colleagues with death, and maintaining 
most atrocious discussions. 

" I declare to you that these brigands, who are doubtless 
in the pay of England, have risen in rebellion against the 
Council of Ancients, and have dared to talk of outlawing 
the General, who is charged with the execution of its decree ; 
as if the word ' outlaw ' were still to be regarded as the 
death-warrant of persons most beloved by their country. 

" I declare to you, that these madmen have outlawed 
themselves, by their attempts upon the liberty of the Coun- 
sil. In the name of that people, which for so many years 
have been the sport of terrorism, I consign to you the 
charge of rescuing the majority of their representatives 
so that, delivered from stilettos by bayonets, they may de 
liberate on the fate of the Republic. 

" General, and you, soldiers, and you, citizens, you will not 
acknowledge, as legislators of France, any but those who 
rally round me. As for those who remain in the ovangery, 



408 LUCIEN BOXAPAETE. 

let force expel them. They are not the represeL tatives of 
the people, but the representatives of the poniard. Let 
that be their title, and let it follow them everywhere ; and 
whenever they dare show themselves to the people, let every 
finger point at them, and every tongue designate them by the 
well-merited title of ' Representatives of the Poniard.' " 
YiVE LA Republique ! 

Perceiving some hesitation on the part of the troops in 
advancing against the National Representatives, Lucien 
drew his sword, exclaiming, " I swear that I will stab my 
brother to the heart, if he ever attempt anything against the 
liberty of Frenchmen." This dramatic action was success- 
ful, and at a signal given by Napoleon, Murat, at the head 
of his Grenadiers, rushed into the hall, and drove out the 
Representatives. 

IX. 

The government being destroyed, it was necessary to 
frame a new one immediately. Lucien succeeded in col- 
lecting thirty of the members of the late Council of Five 
Hundred. The Council of Ancients had already decided 
that a provisional government of three members should 
be appointed, and the remaining members of the Council 
being prepared to concur with Lucien, declared the Di- 
rectory dissolved, and decreed that a provimonal commission 
of three members, who should assume the title of Consuls 
(Sieyes, Ducos, and Bonaparte), should be appointed. Every 
thing was concluded before three o'clock in the morning of 
the 20th Brumaire, and the Palace of St. Cloud, which had 
been so agitated, resumed its wonted stillness. 

The participation of Lucien in that memorable revolution 
was by far the most important event of his life. After its 
accomplishment, he was one of the Commission that framed 



LUCIEN APPOINTED MINISTER OF THE INTERIOR. 409 

the consular constitution. The portfolio of the Minister 
of the Interior was the reward of his services ; and though 
he had scarcely attained his 25th year, his administration 
acquired a character of energy and elevation which com- 
manded the respect of the nation. His ofi&cial duties were 
discharged with firmness and activity ; and without any 
sacrifice of personal consequence, he knew how to assume 
the most amiable suavity of manners towards individuals of 
all classes. He was the friend of public instruction, and the 
patron of science and the arts. He was partial to public 
ceremonies and processions — being of opinion that they 
produced a powerful effect upon the public mind, and tended 
to facilitate proper intercourse between the government and 
the people. 



After the elevation of Napoleon, the Bonaparte family 
purchased estates in the vicinity of Paris, and made them 
the seats of hospitality. Lucien occupied the villa Le 
Plessis Chamant. 

Madame Lucien was not satisfied with her husband's 
change of fortune ; all this grand display alarmed her. She 
was obliged to give up her time to other duties, which she 
thought far less important than those she had hitherto ful- 
filled with so much pleasure. But a circumstance which she 
was far from foreseeing, gave her comfort and happiness ; 
it was the change in her favor which took place in the sen- 
timents of her brother-in-law. (Napoleon had disapproved 
of her marriage with Lucien). The penetration of the First 
Consul was too just for the excellent qualities which ani- 
mated Madame Lucien's heart, to escape him ; and he soon 
attached himself to her with truly fraternal regard. 

We learn, from one who knew her, that Madame Lucien 



410 LUCIEN BONAPARTE. 

was tall, well-shaped, slender, and had in her figure and 
carriage that native grace and ease which are imparted by 
the air and sky of the south ; her complexion was dark, 
her eyes not large, and she was pleasing, because her look 
was kind, her smile sweet, as well as her voice ; she was 
graceful and amiable. Her love for her husband ren 
dered her intelligent in adapting herself to the circum 
stance of the times. She soon became an elegant woman, 
and her toilette manner and conversation showed no trace 
of the humility of her origin. 

The winter of 1800 was a very brilliant period in the 
world of fashion, and Lucien's wife gave splendid enter- 
tainments at his house. While he was Minister of the 
Interior, she died, and was buried in the park of Le Plessis 
Chamant. Her husband erected to her memory a monu- 
ment with the simple inscription : — " A daughter — wife — 
and mother — without reproach !" When he went to Le 
Plessis, he took his daughters with him, that they might 
join him in his prayers at their mother's tomb. 

XI. 

When Lucien was about twenty-two years of age, he is 
described as tall, and slender in form, brilliant in expression, 
rapid in utterance, and nervous in his movements. He was 
near-sighted, and the only one of the Bonapartes who wore 
spectacles ; but this defect was over-balanced by his smile, 
always in harmony with his look, and his agreeable coun- 
tenance, and pleasing manners. His understanding and 
talents were of a high order. In early life, when he met 
with a subject that he liked, he identified himself with it, 
and may be said to have lived in a metaphysical world. He 
was a Greek with Demosthenes, a Roman with Cicero, and, 
in short, was an enthusiast in the classics and in poetry. 



HIS EMBASSY TO PORTUGAL. 411 

But his temper was so entirely different from Napoleon's, 
they did not long continue on brotherly terms. Their 
misunderstandings began in 1800 ; and the breach was 
studiously widened by the Beauharnais family, who at that 
time had considerable influence over the mind of Napoleon. 

XII. 

At the close of the year 1800, after many disputes with 
Napoleon, he resigned the Home Department, and accepted 
an embassy to Spain. He was instructed to try to change 
the resolution of the King of Spain, and urge him to a war 
against Portugal, the ally of England. His mission proved 
successful ; he managed to ingratiate himself with Charles 
lY., and his favorite Godoy, and to re-establish French in- 
fluence at Madrid. He managed, during his residence in 
Spain, to send out supplies to the distressed French army in 
Egypt; and was also active in the creation of the Kingdom 
of Etruria, and in the cession to France of the Duchies of 
Parma, Piacenza and Guastalla. A French army, under 
the orders of Lucien's brother-in-law. General Le Clerc, 
having entered Portugal, the Court of Lisbon endeavored 
to purchase safety by lavishing money on the invaders. 
That Court accordingly opened negotiations with Lucien, 
and in June, 1801, preliminaries of peace were signed at 
Badajos, on a secret subsidy of thirty million of francs being 
paid ; which was divided between Lucien and Godoy. Li;- 
cien's share of this money is reported to have been ten mil- 
lion of francs, ($2,000,000), and this, according to Fouche, 
was the source of his immense fortune. 

XIII. 

On his return to Paris, he was appointed by the Emperor 
a member of the Tribunate, and in that body advocated the 



412 LUCIEX BONAPARTE. 

establisliment of the Legion of Honor, of whicli Napoleon 
appointed him Grand Master. From this time, he began to 
live in great splendor at Paris, and commenced the collec- 
tion of one of the finest galleries of paintings in Europe. 
He became a munificent patron of the arts, but his uncom- 
promising disposition led him into frequent disputes with 
Napoleon — and his best friends have assured us that in 
almost every instance Lucien was to blame. Napoleon 
wished him to marry a German Princess, and thus form the 
first great alliance in the family. He, however, declined 
this proposal, and, in 1803, married Madame Jouberthou, 
whose husband had died in the West Indies, while engaged 
in commercial pursuits. When Napoleon heard of the mar- 
riage, from the priest, by whom it had been clandestinely 
sanctioned, he was incensed, and resolved not to confer on 
Lucien the title of French Prince. He obtained, therefore, 
only the dignity of Senator, and on the establishment of the 
Empire, he and his family were excluded from the right of 
succession to the Crown. 

His residence at Paris thus become unpleasant, and he 
retired to Pome, where for a-while his mother resided with 
him ; but he returned to Paris at last, on the solicitation of 
Napoleon. The Pope (Pius VII.,) had received him with 
great cordiality, and created him Prince of Canino. He 
purchased an estate near Yiterbo, fifty miles north of Rome, 
and lived in luxury, enjoying the intimacy of the Pontiff. 
At the close of the year 1807, Napoleon visited Italy, and 
by his invitation, Lucien met him at Mantua ; it was the 
last interview between them till the hundred days of 1815. 
A partial reconciliation took place between them, and Lu- 
cien consented that his eldest daughter should marry Ferdi- 
nand of Spain, then Prince of the Asturias. The marriage 
did not take place, and Napoleon afterwards desired a 



HIS RETURN TO PARIS DURING THE HUNDRED DAYS. 413 

matrimonial union between the same Prince and a daughter 
of Joseph, which project also failed, in consequence of the 
French disasters in Spain. 

XIY. 

Lucien had taken part with the Pope, in his difficulties 
with Napoleon, and he was warned that his residence in the 
Papal dominions might be no longer safe. In 1811, with 
the assistance of Murat, King of Naples, he made arrange- 
ments for proceeding to America ; but being captured in 
the Mediterranean by a British cruiser, he was carried to 
England. Having obtained permission to reside there, he 
leased a handsome villa, called Thorngrove, near Ludlow 
Castle, where he lived in sumptuous elegance until the ter- 
mination of the war in 1814. The other members of the 
Bonaparte family, during Napoleon's exile to Elba, having 
retired to Italy, and chiefly to Rome, where the reinstated 
Pope afforded them a hospitable reception, Lucien joined 
them. He concurred with them in promoting the escape of 
Napoleon from Elba. When success had crowned the 
enterprise he hastened to Paris, and joined with his brothers 
and Cardinal Fesch, in welcoming the return of the Empe- 
ror, and aided in the re-establishment of the Empire. Lucien 
assumed the title of an Imperial Prince, and claimed a seat 
in the new House of Peers. This was resisted, on the 
ground that he had never been acknowledged as a Prince 
of the Empire, and he then took his seat as a common peer. 
In the private councils he advised Napoleon to offer to the 
Emperor of xiustria, to abdicate in favor of his son. This 
manoeuvre not having succeeded, Napoleon set off for the 
army, and lost the battle of Waterloo. Being appointed 
Commissioner of the Emperor to communicate with the re- 
Dresftiitatives of the people, Lucien tried to revive in the 



414 LITCIEN NAPOLEON. 

Chamber of Deputies, a feeling of sympathy for his brother. 
He spoke eloquently, but was answered by Lafayette, who 
declared that France had suffered enough for Napoleon. 
Lucien was opposed to his brother's abdication, but when 
he saw Napoleon determined upon it, he insisted on it 
being made in favor of young Napoleon. Soon after th 
Allied Armies entered Paris, Napoleon went to Rochefor 
to embark on his exile, and Lucien returned to Italy. He 
rejoined his family at Rome, where he afterwards spent 
many years in retirement. 

XV. 

In 1828 he began excavating at La Camella, on his estate 
of Canino, which is believed to have been the site of Vetu- 
lonia, an Etruscan city, and he gathered an ample collection 
of Etruscan antiquities, of which he published a descrip- 
tion : — [" Musee Etrusque de Lucien Bonaparte, Prince de 
Canino."] During the insurrection in the Papal States, in 
1831, Lucien kept himself and family aloof from that attempt 
to change the government. Some time after, he visited 
England, where he published several of his works. He 
returned to Italy, and died at Yiterbo, on the 27th June, 
1840, leaving three sons and several daughters. The eldest 
son, Charles, now Prince of Canino, married Letitia, eldest 
daughter of Joseph Bonaparte. The two -younger, Pierre 
and Antoine, having disputes with the Papal authorities 
were compelled to flee from Rome, in 1836. They retirei 
to the United States, whence they returned in 1838, and 
Pierre was elected in 1848 a member of the French Nationa 
Assembly for the Department of Corsica. Of the daughters, 
Charlotte married, in 1815, Prince Gabrielli of Rome, and 
the second, Christine, married M. Posse, a Swedish Count. 
This marrias-e was dissolved, when Christine married Lqrd 



LUCIEN, AUTHOR AND ORATOR. 415 

Dudley Stuart. Letitia married Thomas Wyse, Esq,, member 
of the British Parliament for Waterford, Ireland. This 
marriage was unfortunate ; and certain romantic incidents 
arising out of it have been embellished in a novel by the 
Viscount d'Arlincourt, called "Le Pelerin." 

Lucien holds a respectable rank as a French author, in 
prose and in verse. His principal works are " Charlemagne, 
or the Church Delivered," an epic poem, in 24 cantos ; " La 
Cirneide, or Corsica Saved," a poem, in 12 cantos ; " Re- 
sponse to the Memoirs of General La Marque ;" and " Me- 
moirs of Lucien Bonaparte," in one volume, 8vo. 

As an orator Lucien was among the most brilliant and 
persuasive in France. His literary acquisitions and abilities 
were superior to those of his brothers, and his literary tastes 
were transmitted to his children. His tastes in all respects 
were those of a scholar, rather than a prince. 



BOOK VII 



LOUIS BOIAPARTE, 

KING OF HOLLAND, 
Bom at Ajaccio, Sept. 2, 1778 ; Died at Leghorn, June 25, 1816 




LOUIS BONAPARTE. 



LOUIS BONAPARTE. 



The Bonapartes were remarkable for the early develop- 
raent of their intellectual powers, and in this respect, Louis, 
the third brother, stands conspicuous. He entered the pub- 
lic service at fourteen, having lost his father in his seventh 
year. In one of Napoleon's visits to the family at Marseilles, 
during the Seige of Toulon, he prevailed on his mother to 
send Louis to the school of Chalons, that he might undergo 
the examination necessary to his entrance into the corps of 
artillery. In passing through Lyons the boy was exposed 
to great danger, as that city was then the theatre of the 
most violent and horrible revolutionary massacres. His 
passport took him through in safety ; but on reaching 
Chalons he heard that the school of artillery was dissolved. 
In hid alarm, he acted on the rumor, and returned to his 
relatives without delay. Shortly after his return, Toulon 
was captured, and Napoleon took Louis with him, in the 
Army of the Maritime Alps, giving him the rank of sub-lieu- 
tenant in his staff, although not fifteen years old. In 
passing Toulon, Napoleon inspected the works, and showed 
the ruin to his young brother. The spectacle proved an 
instructive lesson to the boy. On reaching a spot where two 
hundred dead bodies lay, needlessly sacrificed by a French 
officer, Napoleon said, " If I had commanded here, all these 
brave men would have been still alive. Ijearn from this 
example, young man, how indispensable it is for those, to 
possess knowledge, who aspire to the command of others." 



420 LOUIS BONAPAKTE. 

II. 

In the campaign of the Maritime Alps, Louis served in 
the staff of his brother, and was present in all the engage- 
ments. But the campaign led to no important results. Na^ 
poleon went to Paris, where he remained as a private indi- 
vidual, nearly five months, unemployed. Louis was sent to 
the school for artillery at Chalons, for an examination ; but 
when his brother was appointed to the command of the army 
of Italy, he was ordered to join his staff at Paris. The 
representatives of the people wished to confer on him the 
rank of Captain ; but as he was then but little over fifteen 
years old, the measure was objected to by his brother. Na- 
poleon used to relate sundry anecdotes of Louis, which, 
while they evince the most ardent fraternal attachment, 
afford proofs of courage and coolness, remarkable in a boy, 
The first time he was in an engagement, he was anxious to 
serve as a rampart to his brother. This was before Saorgia, 
a strongly fortified village, on the main road from Nice to 
Tenda. While the Austrians were keeping up a brisk fire 
of artillery, Louis placed himself befoi'e Napoleon, as he pro- 
ceeded along the outside of the intrenchments, for the pur- 
pose of examining them. On another occasion, they hap- 
pened to be at a battery, upon which the enemy kept up a 
brisk fire. The breast-works were only three or four feet in 
height, and the soldiers frequently stooped for shelter. Na,- 
poleon remarked that Louis imitated his own example, by 
remaining immovable, and asked him the reason. " I have 
heard you say," replied Louis, " that a French officer of 
artillery ought never to fear cannon — it is our best weapon." 

At the school of Chalons, Louis had imbibed anti-re 
publican principles ; the young men at that institution 
made it their boast that they were hostile to the republican 
government. The impressions he received there remained 



HIS MILITARY CAREER. 421 

tlirougli life. He neither shared in the enthusiasm of his 
comrades, who were overjoyed at the prospect of entering 
on a campaign, nor assented to the approbation then gene 
rally bestowed on the fashions, manners and customs which 
prevailed at Paris. He was of an observing and silent 
character. He felt a vacuity of heart, and a sentiment of 
deep regret, on finding himself impelled into a career of 
troublesome ambition. He sighed already for retirement* 
and a peaceful occupation. 

Louis was in his eighteenth year, when he joined the 
second time the army of Italy, as aid-de-camp of Napoleon, 
with the rank of Lieutenant. 

In his military career, Louis displayed courage, by fits 
and starts, and the acquisition of a military reputation 
gave him very little concern. He evinced zeal, activity 
and coolness, but not the slighest feeliug of ambition, dis- 
charging his duty without either indulging or sparing him- 
self in anything, or endeavoring to appear to advantage. 

III. 

In May, 1796, Louis and Lannes were the first who passed 
the Po, with the army. Louis distinguished himself in 
various important actions, among others at the taking of 
Pavia and the siege of Mantua. Napoleon sent him to 
Paris, accompanied by another officer, to present to the 
Directory the colors taken at Castiglione, and the rank of 
captain was conferred on him, as a mark of favor from the 
government. 

He was soon after at his post and was present at the battles 
of Brenta, Caldiero, Rivoli and Areola, and was by the side 
of Lannes when that intrepid hero fell. When Napoleon's 
horse sunk with him in a morass, Louis succeeded in getting 
hold of his brother's hand, but not being strong enough, he 



i2^ LOUIS BONi PARTE. 

was drawn along with him ; Marmant and two subaltern 
officers coming to their aid, the two brothers were extri 
cated from their perilous situation. On the second day of 
the battle, Louis was charged with important orders from 
the General-in-Chief, to General Robut, and being the only- 
person on horseback on the road, he was marked out by the 
enemy, and for a long time exposed to their fire. On regain- 
ing his brother, Napoleon expressed a feeling of surprise and 
joy — " I believed you dead," said he ; and his death had 
been actually announced to him by some of the grenadiers. 

In the short campaign in the Ecclesiastical States, Louis 
accompanied Napoleon, and retiring to Milan on account of 
ill-health, he did not take part in the last campaign in Italy, 
before the peace of Campo Formio. During the negotia- 
tions, he was sent by his brother to reconnoitre the advanced 
posts of the enemy. This important duty lasted eight days, 
and his conduct received the highest praise from Napoleon. 
On this inspection he first saw Bertrand, then a young officer 
in the corps of engineers. He appreciated his merit and 
recommended him to the favor of his brother. 

Louis had a strong constitution, but he had not taken suf- 
ficient care of himself in his campaigns. He was left too 
much to himself at this time, for at so early an age, he must 
have been improvident. He had received several severe falls 
from his horse, and on one occasion, in descending the mouii- 
tains of Savoy, he dislocated his knee. When the Egyptian 
expedition was contemplated he desired to serve in it, but 
at the same time wished to set out later than the troops, in 
order to try the mineral waters of Barrege, which had been 
recommended to him for his health. Napoleon decided 
that he should join the army of Egypt, and embark with 
the first vessel which sailed after the close of the bathing 
jseason. 



LOUIS IN EGYPT. 423 

There was a secret reason which made Louis desirous of 
remaining at Paris. His sister Caroline was then at Ma- 
dame Campan's school, and the young officer, on his fre- 
quent visits, had become acquainted with a friend of his 
sister, named Beauharnais, a cousin of Josephine, and daugh- 
ter of an emigrant at the commencement of the revolution. 
The same lady afterwards became distinguished as the wife 
of General Lavallette. Louis conceived for her the most 
romantic affection. Walking one evening with a naval 
officer and friend of Napoleon, he confided to him his 
secret. The officer was alarmed. " Do you know," said he, 
" that a marriage of this description might be highly inju- 
rious to your brother, and render him an object of suspicion 
to the government ; and that too, at a moment when he is 
setting out on a hazardous expedition ?" The following day, 
Napoleon sent for Louis, and ordered him to set out instantly 
with his other aids-de-camp for Toulon, and there wait his 
arrival, to embark for Egypt. 

He sailed with the expedition. He landed with General 
Kleber, and was attached to his division in the attack on 
Alexandria. He was an eye-witness of the celebrated 
victory of Nelson at Aboukir, when the French fleet was 
destroyed. 

Soon after he was summoned to Cairo. He ascended tho 
Nile ; visited the pyramids of Gizeh ; the site of Memphis ; 
the ruins of Heliopolis ; and the citadel of Cairo. 

IV. 

While in Egypt, he wrote several letters to his friends in 
France. One to his brother Joseph, intercepted by the 
British cruisers, and published in London, breathes a tone 
of high philanthropy, and indicates philosophical taste 
and keenness of observation. 



424 LOUIS BONAPARTE. 

In speaking of the inhumanity of the Bedouins, he says — • 
" 0, Jean Jacques Eousseau! Why was it not thy fate to 
see those men whom thou callest ' the men of nature ?' — thou 
wouldst sink with shame and start with horror at the 
thought of having once admired them ! Oh ! how many 
misanthropes would be converted, if chance should conduc 
them into the midst of the deserts of Arabia !" 

On setting out for Syria, Napoleon determined to send a 
messenger to France, to give an accurate account of the 
state of affairs in Egypt, and if possible obtain further as- 
sistance for the expedition. He chose Louis, whom he was 
no longer afraid to trust in France, since Mademoiselle 
Beauharnais had been induced to give her hand to another. 
Louis sailed from Egypt in one of the gun-boats, and 
escaped the English and other armed vessels on the look- 
out. Being closely pursued by an English frigate, he threw 
overboard the colors taken by the army in Egypt, with which 
he was intrusted. He arrived safely in France,- after a 
tempestuous voyage of two months, stopping at Corsica on 
his way. Calling on Madame de Bourienne, at Sens, he was 
informed that the intercepted correspondence seized by the 
English, among which were some of his own letters, had 
been published. " The publication of some of the letters,'^ 
he remarked, " would cause unpleasant scenes in more fami- 
lies than one, on the return of the army to France." 

The Directory having granted the required aid for the 
army in Egypt, Louis was busy with the details necessary 
for the expedition, when Napoleon unexpectedly arrived at 
Frejus. With Joseph, and General Le Clerc, their brother- 
in-law, Louis started to meet Napoleon. But he was taken 
ill at Autun, and could not proceed. On returning to Paris, 
he resumed his former post of aid-de-camp. On Napoleon's 
elevation to the Consulship, Louis was appointed colonel of 



REPUGNANCE TO MARRYING HORTENSE. 425 

a regiment of dragoons, and sent to serve in Normandy, 
where some remains of civil war still existed. Peace soon 
followed, but it was thouglit expedient that four of the in- 
surgent leaders should be tried by a court-martial, and 
Louis was called upon to preside. This he refused, pro- 
tested against the proceeding, and neglected no effort to 
prevent its taking place. He was grievously afflicted at 
this catastrophe, which began to disgust him with a military 
life. His regiment was soon after recalled to Paris, and 
on their march to the army of reserve, the command was 
changed to another of&cer. Louis remained at Paris. 

V. 

A project had been for some time entertained by Jo- 
sephine, to which Napoleon assented, for the marriage of 
her daughter Hortense with Louis. The proposition was 
made to him after the return of the First Consul from the 
brilliant campaign of Marengo, [July, 1800], but he refused. 
" Not," he says, " from any unfavorable opinion entertained 
by him of the character or morals of the young lady, who 
was the subject of general praise, but because he was afraid 
their characters were not suited to each other.'' Soon after- 
wards the solicitations for this marriage were renewed, but 
without overcoming his objections, and to escape further per 
suasions, he made a journey of several months in Germany. 
At the Court of Prussia he met with a kind reception from 
the King and Queen, for whom he ever after cherished the 
warmest attachment. Hostilities again breaking out be- 
tween France and Austria, he returned to Paris. The pro- 
posals of marriage were renewed, and he was glad to find a 
pretence to elude importunities on this subject by joining 
the army for Portugal. Previous to setting out, he spent 
two weeks with Napoleon and Josephine at Malmaison. 



426 LOUIS BONAPARTE. 

After serving some time with the army in Spain, Loui? 
obtained leave of absence to enable him to try the waters 
of Barreges, for a rheumatism and lameness with which 
he was afflicted. He passed three months there, and re 
turned to Paris, after the peace with England, in October 
1801. 

Immediately after his return, his sister-in-law again 
brought forward the subject of his proposed marriage, but 
Louis ridiculed a project which had always been so repug- 
nant to him But one evening, at a ball at Malmaison, 
Josephine took him aside, Napoleon joined them, and after 
a long conference, they obtained from him his consent. The 
day of the nuptials was fixed, and on the 4th of January, 
1802, the contract, the civil marriage and the religious 
ceremony took place. " Never," said Louis in his memoirs, 
" was there a more gloomy ceremony — never had husband 
and wife a stronger presentiment of all the horrors of a 
forced and ill-suited marriage." From that day he dates 
the commencement of his unhappiness, his bodily and mental 
sufferings. It brought domestic troubles which stamped on 
his whole existence a profound melancholy, a dejection, a 
drying of the heart, which nothing could ever remedy. 
Louis was but little over 23 years of age at the time of his 
marriage, and Hortense was 19. 

In his memoirs, he treats with scorn and contempt, the 
absurd libels respecting his domestic affairs, involving the 
purity of his wife's character, and the legitimacy of his 
children. Napoleon, also, in his conversations at St. 
Helena, thought proper to allude to the subject, and to 
indignantly repel the charges which had been made against 
Hortense, at the same time showing the entire improbability 
of the stories about her and her offspring. We have found 



HIS MARRIAGE WITH HORTENSE. 42Y 

nothing in our investigations on this subject to justify even 
a suspicion against the morals or integrity of Louis or Hor- 
tense, and we here dismiss the subject with the remark, that 
there is more cause for sympathy with the parties to this 
unhappy union, than of censure for their conduct. 

Says Louis, in his Memoirs, " Before the ceremony, during 
the benediction, and ever afterwards, they both equally and 
constantly felt, that they were not suited to each other," and 
yet they allowed themselves to be drawn into a marriage, 
which their relations, and the mother of Hortense especially, 
conceived to be politic and necessary. From the 4th of 
January, 1802, down to the month of September, 1807, when 
they finally separated, they remained very little together, 
and that at three separate periods, and long intervals ; but 
they had three children, whom they loved with equal affec- 
tion. The oldest, named Napoleon Charles, died in Holland, 
on the 5th of May, 1807 ; Napoleon Louis, the second, was 
baptized at St. Cloud, by Pope Pius YIL, during the resi- 
dence of the Pontiff in France. This is the son whom Louis 
endeavored to put in his place when he abdicated, as King 
of Holland, in 1810. [He died in 1831]. The third 
received the name of Charles Louis Napoleon'' — [The 
President of France]. 

VII. 

From 1802 to 1804, inclusive, Louis was generally in the 
army, or at the mineral baths. In 1804, he was appointed 
General of Brigade. At this period, the conspiracy of 
Georges, the death of Pichegru and that of the Duke 
d'Enghien took place. Louis was then at Compeigne, in 
command of his former regiment and a brigade of dragoons. 
He immediately accompanied Hortense to Paris, on hearing 
of the arrest of the Duke. Louis says he arrived too late, 



428 LOUIS BONAPARTE. 

but that he could have done nothing to prevent the execution. 
" He could only (he observes,) add his tears to those of hia 
mother-in-law, of Hor tense, and of his sister Caroline, all 
equally afflicted on account of such a misfortune." 

At the close of the year 1804, soon after the coronation 
of Napoleon as Emperor, Louis was severely affected with 
a paralytic attack, caused by exposure and rheumatism, and 
partly lost the use of his right-hand. Some years after, the 
same affection deprived him of the free use of his limbs 
generally. On his accession to the Empire, Napoleon ap- 
pointed Louis, General of Division, and Councillor of State ; 
and in 1805, during the Emperor's absence in Germany, he 
received the command of the garrison of Paris, in which 
situation he displayed great zeal and activity. 

The first intimation Louis received of Napoleon's intention 
respecting Holland, was conveyed to him during the cam- 
paign of Austerlitz. Louis then commanded a corps of 
troops stationed in Holland. At the close of the campaign 
in Prussia he sent back most of the troops to Paris, and 
went to meet the Emperor at Strasbourg. He was received 
with coldness, and reprimanded for his hasty departure from 
Holland. Louis replied, that the rumors in circulation with 
respect to certain changes in the government of that country, 
had hastened his departure, and were unsatisfactory to the 
Dutch. Napoleon intimated the rumors were not unfounded, 
and that he contemplated making him King of Holland 
But Louis did not give himself much uneasiness on the sub 
ject, believing that he should find pretexts for refusing tha 
high rank destined for him, of which he was not ambitious. 

VIII. 

In the spring of 1806, a deputation from Holland arrived 
in Paris, and after four months of negotiation, a treaty was 



ELECTED KIXG OF HOLLAND. 429 

concluded, l)y which the Republic of Holland was trans- 
formed into a monarchy. Louis was not invited to the 
consultations on the subject, and received no of&cial inti- 
mation that his personal interests were concerned ; but at 
length the Dutch ambassadors made him acquainted with 
what had been going on, and assured him that their nation 
gave him the preference for King. Louis did what he could 
to avoid expatriation ; and to Napoleon he pleaded the deli- 
cacy of his constitution and the unfavorableness of the 
climate. But his objections were overruled, and Talleyrand 
waited on him at his country-seat of St. Leu, and read aloud 
to him and Hortense, the treaty and constitution which had 
been concluded. On being asked if he approved of tl*sm, he 
answered that he could not form an opinion at a single read- 
ing, but he Avould endeavor to do his best. This took 
place on the 3d of June, 1806. On the 5th of June, Louia 
and Hortense were proclaimed King and Queen of Holland. 
After remaining a week at St. Leu, during which he 
gained some information of the state of the country he was 
about to rule, Louis with his family set out for Holland, 
June 15, 1806. On approaching the Dutch frontiers, he 
changed his cockade ; " not,'' he says, " without great pain, 
and shedding sincere tears." He arrived at the Hague on 
the 18th of June, and his first care was to form a ministry. 
He selected men of known integrity and merit, and to them 
he gave his entire confidence. To the several addresses 
presented to him, he replied, " that from the moment he set 
foot on their soil, he had become a Dutchman." He pro- 
mised to protect justice, as he would commerce, by throwing 
the access to it open, and removing everything that might 
impede it. He said that no distinction should exist as to 
religion and political opinions, and declared that merit and 
services should form the sole ground of preferment. 



430 LOUIS BONAPARTE. 

The first care of tlie new King was to re-establish the 
finances of the State. A civil and criminal code were 
drawn up by eminent men, and he established an equal 
system of taxation. To his qualities as a statesman and 
sovereign, Louis added a noble character for humanity. He 
was in advance of the age in advocating the abolition of 
capital punishment. " A King," said he, " owes to God, to 
posterity, and to the nation, an account of all the persons 
in subjection to him." 

The attachment of Louis to his Dutch subjects was such, 
that he r-efused without hesitation the Crown of Spain when 
ofi'ered to him by the Emperor ; and this attachment was 
repaid by the devotion of his subjects. 

Napoleon, having resolved to establish his Continental 
System, an order was given for the sequestration of all 
English merchandise, which would have had the effect of 
destroying the most valuable foreign commerce of Holland. 
Louis, from a sense of duty to his subjects, long resisted the 
commands of the Emperor, and Marshal Oudinot was sent 
into Holland, with an army of 20,000 men, to enforce the 
continental blockade. The King visited Paris, in December, 
1809, to expostulate with Napoleon, and was given to under- 
stand that if the British Orders in Council were not revoked, 
Holland would be united to the French Empire. Louis 
returned to Holland in April, 1810, and finding that he was 
unable to protect the interests of the Dutch nation, he abdi- 
cated the throne in favor of his son, on the 1st of July, 1810. 
The abdication was declared a nullity, by the Emperor, and 
by a decree, dated the 9th of July, Holland was united to 
the Empire. Thus the reign of Louis as Kins: of Holland, 
was a little over four years. 



ABDICATION AND DEATH OF LOUIS. • 431 

VIII. 

Leaving Haarlem in the strictest incognito, Louis pro- 
ceeded to the baths of Toeplitz, in Bohemia. He then re- 
tired to Gratz, in Styria, where he resided three years, 
under the title of Count de Saint Leu. He refused a bril- 
liant appanage, and ordered his wife to decline all assistance 
from the Emperor, for himself and his children. At Gratz, 
Louis lived a retired life, endeavoring to re-establish his 
health. He made an attempt to recover the possession of 
the Crown of Holland, and even thought of returning tc 
that country, by way of Paris. He, therefore, retraced his 
steps to Switzerland, and the Dutch having chosen the 
Prince of Orange for their King, Louis was released from 
all obligations to his former subjects. He now wished to 
retire to St. Leu for the remainder of his life. He reached 
Paris 1st of Jan., 1814, and through the mediation of Maria 
Louisa, a meeting took place with his brother, which passed 
very coldly. He remained in the vicinity of Paris, until 
the appearance of the allied armies before the city, and on 
the 30th of March, 1814, he accompanied the Empress to 
Blois. After Napoleon's abdication he retired, with the 
Pope's permission, to Rome ; and continued to reside in 
Italy up to the time of his death. In his retreat, he devoted 
himself chiefly to literature. He was the author of a Ro- 
mance, called " Maria, or the Hollanders ;" " Documents 
Historical, and Reflections on the Government of Holland," 
including his own Memoirs — in 3 vols., 8vo.; " Memoires 
sur la Versification ;" also an opera and a tragedy ; a col- 
lection of poems ; and a reply to Sir Walter Scott, in his 
History of Napoleon. 

Louis died at Leghorn, on the 25th of June, 1846, aged 
nearly 68 years. His dying wish was fulfilled on the 29th 
of September, 1846, when his body was laid by those of his 



432 HORTENSB. 

sons, at St. Leu. The obsequies were attended by a nu 
merous assemblage of generals, statesmen and veterans of 
the Old Guard, and other relics of the Empire ; and by 
several members of the Bonaparte family, who were allowed 
to return to Paris on a short visit, to lay the brother of Na- 
poleon in his tomb. 



HORTENSE— QUEEN OF HOLLAND, 

Born at Paris, April 10, 1783— Died at Arenemberg, Switzerland, Oct., 1837. 

I. 

The family of the Beauharnais was among the most re- 
spectable of the old French nobility. The two brothers, 
Francois and Alexander, flourished in the reign of Louis 
XYI. The former, the Marquis de Beauharnais, was born 
at La Eochelle, August 12, 1756, and was in the -National 
Assembly at the commencement of the Revolution. He 
opposed the motion of his younger brother, the Viscount 
Alexander, to take from the King the command of the army. 
In 1792, with the Count d' Hervilly and others, he formed 
the project of a new flight of the royal family, but the arrest 
of his companion, the Baron Champon, defeated the plan. 
He was appointed Major General in the army of the Pri'nce 
of Conde, and wrote, in 1792, to the President of the 
National Assembly, protesting against the treatment of the 
King. When Napoleon became First Consul, the Marquis 
in a letter exhorted him to restore the sceptre to the House 
of Bourbon. While he was in exile, the Marquis left his 
daughter Emilie, in the care of his sister-in-law, Josephine, 
who placed her at the school of Madame Campan. To in 
terrupt a love affair between her niece and Louis Bona 




HORTENSE BEAUHARNAIS. 



THE BEAUHAUNATS FAMILY. 433 

parte, Josephine and Napoleon effected her marriage with 
Lavalette a few days before the embarkation of the expedi- 
tion to Egypt. In 1815, Madame Lavalette became cele- 
brated for effecting the escape of her husband, when im- 
prisoned by the Bourbons. Josephine also used her influ- 
ence to eff'ect the recall of the Marquis de Beauharnais from 
exile, and during the Empire he served as senator and as 
ambassador to the Court of Spain. He united with Ferdi- 
nand against Godoy, at Madrid, in 1807, and fell into dis- 
grace with Napoleon, who banished him. After the resto- 
ration of the Bourbons, he returned to Paris, where he 
died, Jan. 10, 1819. 

II. 

Alexander, Yiscount de Beauharnais, was born in 1760, at 
Martinique. He served with distinction in the French army 
under Rochambeau, (which aided the United States during 
the American Revolution) — and married Josephine. At the 
breaking out of the French Revolution, he was chosen a 
member of the National Assembly, of which he was for some 
time president. 

In the Life of Josephine, we have also spoken of Yiscount 
Beauharnais. In 1792, he was General of the Army of the 
Rhine, and, in 1793, he was appointed Minister of War. In 
consequence of the decree removing men of noble birth from 
the army, he retired to his country-seat. He was falsely 
accused of having promoted the surrender of Mentz, and was 
sentenced to death, July 23, 1794, when thirty-four years of 
age. His two children, by Josephine, were Eugene and 
Hortense. 

III. 

Hortense Eugenie de Beauharnais was born while the 
French nobility were still in their glory. In childhood she 



434 HORTENSE. 

gave promise of wit, grace, and amiable qualities. But she 
was still of a tender age, when those distressing calamities 
which we have elsewhere related, occurred, and finally 
deprived the family of its protector, in the death of Viscount 
de Beauharnais by the guillotine. 

When Hortense was three years of age, she was taken by 
her mother to Martinique ; Eugene being left in France, 
with his father. In her new home, Hortense experienced 
the full effects of a tropical climate, in inflaming the imagina- 
tion, and imparting to the manner the captivating grace of 
the Creoles. A French writer remarks, that " her infancy 
resembled that of the interesting Yirginia, so well described 
by St. Pierre, in the episode to the Etudes de la Nature. 
Compassionate and tender-hearted as Yirginia herself, she 
was deeply shocked by the miseries of the laboring class, 
which, in her childish charity, she endeavored to, alleviate. 
Like Virginia, also, the constant object of maternal solici- 
tude, she imbibed, from the cares, the endearments; and the 
example of Josephine, the witching grace and sensibility, 
which afterwards won every heart." 

The effects of the French Revolution were early felt in the 
colonies, and the tremendous explosion of St. Domingo 
reverberated throuo^h the world. The existence of Hortense 
and her mother was frequently menaced by conflagration 
and the sword ; for the blacks directed their enmity against 
the entire white race. Humanity, mildness, and benevo- 
lence, were already associated with, the name of Josephine;, 
inspiring everyw^here affection and respect. The simple 
annunciation, " I am Madame de Beauharnais — this is my 
daughter," was sufiicient to disarm the violence of the 
assassins, and she was fortunately enabled to find an oppor- 
tunity of embarking for France, where, after a voyage of 
great privation, she arrived, with her daughter, in safevy. 



HER EARLY DAYS AND EDUCATION. 435 

Evils of still greater magnitude awaited her return, and 
made a deep impression on the mind of Hortense. 

When Beauharnais was condemned to death, he warmly 
commended his children to his wife's care. During the im- 
prisonment of the parents, the unfortunate children remained 
ill Paris, with no other protection than that of an old nurse. 
The cares of education could be little attended to, when 
even the means of existence were of difficult attainment. 
The earnings from the labors of the nurse were soon found 
insufficient for the maintenance of three persons ; but Hor- 
tense, though still very young, evinced that energy of charac- 
ter, which, in after-life, was so useful in enabling her to sup- 
port adversity. She and her brother determined to labor 
for their common livelihood ; Eugene hired himself as as- 
sistant to a joiner, and Hortense was placed with a mantua- 
maker. Her patience under every privation, showed how 
deeply -rooted were those principles of perseverance and 
resignation which had been inculcated by her mother. 

IV. 

The liberation of Josephine was the means of restoring 
her daughter to comfort and to her studies. She was placed 
with Madame Campan, who possessed every quality required 
for forming the mind, the heart, and the manners of youth. 
Among the companions of Hortense at Madame Campan's, 
were her cousins, Stephaine, afterwards Grand Duchess of 
Baden ; Emilie Beauharnais, afterwards Madame Lavalette; 
Caroline Bonaparte, the future Queen of Naples, and several 
others, both relatives and connections by her mother's 
second marriage. Under the tuition of Madame Campan, 
Hortense, besides acquiring the general branches of educa- 
tion, excelled in all polite accomplishments, and the success 
of her debut in society fully justified the truth of the favorite 



136 HOETENSE. 

maxim of b.er instructres? — that " talents were the wealth 
of the rich, afid the ornament of the poor." 

After the marriage of her motlier with Napoleon, and 
during his campaigns in Italy and Egypt, Hortense coi- 
tinued at her sctiool. On the return of Napoleon and 
Eugene from Egypt, the family was re-united. The Firat 
Consul resided at the Tuilleries, after 1800. Here the mild 
graces of Hortense appeared to great advantage, contrasted 
with the glittering display of a new court, bristling with 
military splendor. She was courted by the richest and no- 
blest of France, and had now full scope for the indulgence 
of those pleasing anticipations of a future which so rarely 
are realized. Among the frequenters of the drawing-rooms, 
who sought her favor, was M. de Paulo, a royalist of 
polished manners, and his addresses were not unacceptable 
to Josephine and her daughter. But his bombast and vanity 
were not to the taste of the First Consul, who sent him 
forthwith to Languedoc. Hortense never saw Paulo again, 
but if they had met in after-life, her ripened judgment and 
good sense would have confirmed the decision of Napoleon. 

State policy had broken off two marriages in the Bona- 
parte family, and the same policy now arranged another. 
In uniting their own fortunes, Napoleon and Josephine 
seemed to have tacitly agreed to work in concert for the 
advancement of their families. Napoleon looked upon Louis, 
whom he had brought up, rather in the light of a son than 
a brother ; Josephine, for various reasons, was particularly 
anxious to unite him to her daughter ; Louis and Hortense 
were both induced to overcome their mutual reluctance to 
the union, and were married in the month of January, 1802. 
Had their choice been left free, each possessed qualities 
which might have produced a mutual attachment ; but the 
desire of happiness yielded to necessity. The character of 



UNHAPPINESS OF THE UNION. 4BT 

Louis was the reverse of that of Hortense. The newly 
married couple treated their union as the work of compul 
sion, and their little asperities were in constant collision. 
Louis had some romance in his disposition, but it was that 
kind of romance which leads its possessor rather to write a 
book than to enact the hero. " He was enthusiastically 
devoted to visions of peace, and yet fate had condemned him 
to be a soldier. He hated ceremony, and yet his life was 
spent in a court, and his motions were a perpetual pageant. 
Preferring retirement and speculative reflection, he was 
hurried along by the whirlwind of his brother's genius." 

It was impossible to imagine more sweetness, benevolence 
and simplicity of taste, than were united in the character 
of Hortense, but she added the qualities befitting a queen, 
and her superior mind was prepared for every change of 
fortune. She possessed a quick and decided temper, a 
strong intellect, and proper ambition ; but her chief desire 
was, that the renown of her husband should elevate and 
gratify her pride. The military career and literary pro- 
ductions of Louis had acquired for him some distinction, 
and his family-name had become the proudest in history. 

V. 

The gloom of the newly-married pair was observed at a 
grand ball given in honor of their nuptials by a lady of the 
old nobility, at which the ambassadors of the various powers 
were present — but these circumstances were soon overlooked 
by the public, amidst the many important events which ar- 
rested attention. 

If Hortense ever experienced matrimonial felicity, it must 
have been after she became a mother. A union blessed 
with children seems sanctioned by Providence. Hortense 
had three sons, and maternal tenderness, conju2:al anx 



438 HORTENSE. ^ 

iety, and the pride of a princess, were all gratified in theii 
birth. 

It was at this most brilliant period of Hortense's life that 
the fine collection of musical romances appeared, which has 
ranked her among the most tasteful of lyrical composers. 
The saloons of Paris — the solitude of exile — the most remote 
countries — have all acknowledged the charm of these de- 
lightful melodies, which need no royal name to enhance 
their reputation. The Frenchman hears with delight and 
pride of country the airs of Hortense sung by the Greek, 
the Russian and the Spaniard, and united to national poetry 
on the banks of the Thames and the Tagus, while they are 
familiar to the lovers of music in other parts of Europe, and 
in transatlantic regions. Even where the rank of the com- 
poser is unknown, the homage paid to her genius evinces 
that it is their intrinsic merit which gives to these natural 
effusions of female sensibility the power of universal success. 

The Duchess D'Abrantes thus describes her previous to 
her marriage : — 

" Hortense de Beauharnais was at this time IT. years old ; 
she was fresh as a rose, and though her fair complexion was 
not relieved by much color, she had enough to produce that 
freshness and bloom which was her chief beauty ; a profu- 
sion of light hair played in silky locks round her soft and 
penetrating blue eyes. The delicate roundness of her slender 
figure was set off by the elegant carriage of her head ; her 
feet were small and pretty, her hands very white, with pink, 
well rounded nails. But what formed the chief attraction 
of Hortense was the grace and suavity of her manners. She 
was gay, gentle, and amiable ; she had wit, which, without 
the smallest ill-temper, had just malice enough to be amusing. 
A polished education had improved her natural talents ; she 
drew excellently, sang harmoniously, and performed admira- 



MARRIED LIFE OF HORTEXSE. 489 

bly in comedy. In 1800, she was a charming young girl ; 
she afterwards became one of the most amiable princesses 
of Europe. I have seen many, both in their own courts and 
in Paris, but I never knew one who had any pretensions to 
equal talents. Her brother loved her tenderly ; the First 
Consul looked upon her as his child ; and it is only in that 
country so fertile in the inventions of scandal, that so foolish 
an accusation could have been imagined, as that any feeling 
less pure than paternal affection actuated his conduct towards 
her. The vile calumny met with the contempt it merited." 

VI. 

In the early days of her matrimonial life, there were cir- 
cumstances which alleviated her sorrows and made her 
cheerful in the midst of causes of discontent and unhappi- 
ness. Everything around her appeared to reflect glory, re- 
nown and happiness. Josephine was seated on the first 
throne in the world ; Eugene reigned as a Viceroy at 
Milan ; while the head of this exalted family could bestow 
on his brothers the monarchies raised by his military genius, 
and consolidated by his political talents. The brows of 
Hortense seemed destined for a diadem ; Napoleon willed 
it, and Louis became King of Holland, in 1806 — [The same 
year, the cousin of Hortense, Stephanie de la Pagerie, who 
had been adopted by Napoleon and Josephine, and called 
Stephanie de Beauharnais, was married to Charles, the 
Hereditary Prince, and afterwards Grand Duke of Baden. 

In the midst of the enjoyment of new dignity, and of be- 
nevolent plans for the future welfare of those over whom ?} a 
with her husband was called to rule, the happiness of Hor- 
tense was clouded by the necessary separation from her 
mother and her home. It was the first separation for any 
considerable time which had occurred. The prospect of 



440 HORTENSE. 

departure from the scenes of early youth now revived all 
her childish attachments, and the pain thus created divided 
her heart with the anticipation of future grandeur. But in 
acts of kindness and charity she bade adieu to France in a 
manner worthy of her character as a princess. 

VII. 

Louis and his Queen arrived in their new dominions 
the 18th of June, 1806. They took up their residence at 
the Maison des Bois, a country-seat about a league from 
the Hague, where they received the various congratulatory- 
deputations. Their public entry into the Capital was de- 
layed for five days. Louis was well known in Holland, 
from his former visits ; and the curiosity of the Dutch was 
therefore chiefly directed towards the queen, whom they 
now beheld for the first time. Louis was esteemed and re- 
spected, but with the feeling a king always inspires among 
loyal subjects, whilst a young and lovely queen fascinates 
every heart. The Hollanders, who received Hortense with 
joyous acclamations, might easily have believed that the 
fair being before them, had been created by heaven expressly 
to be their sovereign. 

During her residence at the Hague, that hitherto sedate 
metropolis was changed to gayety, and a constant succession 
of balls and entertainments. The dancing-of Hortense wa's 
perfection, and in this as well as in dress and manners, the 
Queen was a model for the young ladies of Holland. She 
promoted social amusements with that true condescension 
which produces in every mind regard, without derogating 
from superior rank. 

Louis was inclined to favor his new subjects and their 
interests, but his wife was an enthusiast for France and 
Napoleon. She expected that his brother should act merel? 



ABDICATION OF LOUIS BONAPARTE. 441 

as his lieutenant in the country where he had placed him on 
a throne. After the death of her eldest son, Hortense was 
advised to travel for her health, and she ultimately returned 
to Paris, and while there, her third son, (Louis Napoleon), 
was born. In 1809, Louis and Napoleon differed on Dutch 
politics, and Hortense at the request of the Emperor, re-, 
paired to Holland, to watch her husband, and persuade him 
if possible, to adhere to the interests of France. Loui?, 
however, asserted his independence, and finally abdicated, 
and Holland was annexed to France. Louis repaired to 
Austria, and his wife returned to Paris ; where she had a 
palace and household suited to her rank, still retaining, by 
courtesy, the title of " Queen of Holland.'^ 

YIII. 

The divorce of her mother from the Emperor, occurred 
previous to the abdication of her husband. She was in 
Paris when the divorce took place,' and was selected as the 
natural mediator to prepare her mother for the calamity. 
But her feelings prevented her complete co-operation ; for 
in the proposed measure she could see neither propriety nor 
necessity. A few distant allusions and equivocal expressions, 
which were all she could utter, fulfilled the strict commands 
of duty imposed on her by the Emperor. Josephine was 
the true and only connecting-link between Napoleon and 
her children ; after her divorce their natural relation 
towards him was inferior to that of collateral relatives. 
Hortense and Eugene wished to resign their already half 
lost grandeur, and to become the companions of their mother 
in her retirement. Josephine reminded them of their obliga- 
tions to Napoleon, and commanded their obedience to the 
will of him who had been to them a father as well as sove- 
reign. They therefore left their weeping mother, soon to 



442 HORTENSE. 

miDgle in the pomp of a second marriage of the Emperor — 
to see a stranger in the person of Maria Louisa seated on 
the throne of Josephine. 

Hortense was one of the four Queens who bore the im- 
perial train of Maria Louisa, as she approached the nuptial 
altar. She wept bitterly as she followed the bride, and 
when the fatal Yes was pronounced that separated her from 
her mother, she uttered a loud shriek, and became insensi 
ble. When this tribute to nature and her sex had been 
thus paid, she recovered all her native strength of cha- 
racter, and the lofty bearing befitting her rank. 

The Count de la Garde, an intimate friend of Hortense, 
to whose memoirs of the Queen of Holland we are indebted 
for some of the foregoing particulars, says, that Louis enter- 
tained a sincere friendship for Josephine, and was deeply 
grieved at the divorce, yet he was very near following the 
example of Napoleon. He wished to add the sanction of 
the law to the separation between himself and his, queen. 
While both were absent from Holland on a long visit to 
Paris, he had never seen the queen except on public occa- 
sions. On his arrival from Holland he had repaired to the 
residence of Madame Letitia, instead of proceeding to his 
own palace, which was occupied by Hortense. After ail this 
coldness, he expressed a desire for her return to Holland, 
and she conceived it was her duty to comply. Her husband 
was unfortunate, and her popularity might be useful in pre- 
serving the allegiance of his subjects. But after a short 
experience, Hortense became convinced that her presence 
could be more useful to her mother than to her husband, and 
pleading ill-health, she returned to France. 



LAST YEARS OF HORTENSE. 443 

IX. 

Josepliine, after her divorce, resided chiefly at her country 
seats, Malmaison and Navarre, sometimes undertaking jour- 
neys with her circle of friends. On one occasion she met 
Eugene and his wife at Geneva. Hortense, who accompanied 
her mother, made one of the party on this occasion. She 
then visited the celebrated waters of Aix, which had been 
recommended for the restoration of her health, then very 
precarious. On this occasion she lost her early and faithful 
friend, Madame de Broc, who was drowned in a mountain- 
torrent, during an excursion. 

When the reverses of Napoleon took place, in 1814, Hor- 
tense was with her mother at Navarre. After visiting Maria 
Louisa at Rambouillet, and seeing her depart for Vienna, 
Hortense joined her mother at Malmaison, where she re- 
ceived the visits of Alexander and of the Allied Monarchs. 
At the request of those sovereigns Louis XYIIL, erected 
St. Leu into, a Duchy for her advantage, with the right 
of inheritance vested in her children. 

When Napoleon abdicated at Fontainbleau, Hortense 
remained with her mother at Malmaison, and saw her breathe 
her last. Feeling under obligation to Louis XYIH., she 
paid her respects to him, on leaving off her mourning. This 
visit gave dissatisfaction to the friends of Napoleon. Mean- 
time her husband sued in the French courts to have his two 
sons restored to him, and the affair was pending, when the 
return of Napoleon put a stop to the proceedings. She 
now resumed her attendance at the Tuilleries, and did the 
honors of Napoleon^s Court." She was one of the first to 
welcome his return to Paris. 

After the battle of Waterloo, she attended Napoleon in 
his retirement at Malmaison, until he left it to embark. She 
then set out for Switzerland, and retired to the town of 



444 HORTENSE. 

Constance. Afterwards, in 1817, she purchased the estate 
of Arenemberg, in the Canton of Thurgau, where she used 
afterwards to spend the summers ; and to pass the winters 
at Rome, with her sister-in-law, Pauline. Her eldest son, 
Napoleon, married his cousin, Joseph Bonaparte's second 
daughter. In 1831, both her sons, without her approval, 
joined the insurrectionary movement in the Papal States. 
The eldest fell sick during that short campaign, and died at 
Pesaro. With her only surviving son, Louis Napoleon, the 
anxious mother, after some narrow escapes, returned to 
Arenemberg, in Switzerland, and she continued to reside 
there until her death, which took place, October 3d, 1837. 
Her son had returned from America to attend her last mo- 
ments. Her remains were taken to France, and buried in 
the church of E,uel, near Paris, by the side of her mother^s. 

Hortense had been deprived of the Duchy of St. Leu, at 
the second restoration of the Bourbons. She published 
some reminiscences or fragments of her memoirs, relative 
especially to her adventures in 1831 : — " La Reine Hortensie 
en Italic, en France, et en Angleterre, pendant V annee, 
1831." Among her musical pieces, is the favorite " Partant 
pour la Syrie le jeune et beau Dunois," or " the Knight 
Errant." 

During her residence in Switzerland, on the banks of 
Lake Constance, her villa of Arenemberg" was the sent of 
elegance and hospitality. She was an ardent admirer of 
the fine arts, and greatly excelled in music. Many of her 
leisure hours were employed in painting ; miniatures, land 
scapes and flowers were equally the subjects of her pencil. 
She spoke freely of the brilliant days of her prosperity^ and 
history then flowed naturally from her lips for the edifica- 
tion of her listeners. 



BOOK VIII. 



-^^•jyj-^rj\/\r j:r^y^ 



JEKOIE BONAPAETE, 

KING OF WESTPHALIA, 

Born in Ajaccto, December 15, 1784— President of the French 

Senate. 




JEROME BONAPARTE. 



r ' 'irriTflnS^ 



;:r-ity^a^^: 



JEROME BONAPARTE. 



The youngest brother of Napoleon was educated for the 
naval service, and it was the ambition of the First Consul 
to give him an opportunity to win distinction and place 
himself at the head of the French navy. In the " history of 
events which have never happened," our fancy has sometimes 
pictured a career on the ocean for Jerome, corresponding 
with that of his brother on the land. In imagination, we 
have given to certain latitudes and longitudes of the sea, a 
" local habitation and a name," like Montenotte, Marengo, 
Austerlitz, or Jena. It is not difficult to imagine how 
different might have been the fate of the Emperor of France 
and the fortunes of all Europe, if, with" the favor of such a 
brother, in the pride and height of his empire, Jerome 
had displayed a high genius for the sea. Napoleon would 
doubtless have attempted under such an agency, to have 
extended his dominion over the ocean as he did over the 
land. We have also sometimes fancied, what might have 
been the consequences of that single interview which took 
place between Robert Fulton and Napoleon Bonaparte, 
when the great American offered to the First Consul his 
immense discovery — promising him if he would " give him 
a chance to try a fleet of vessels that would sail without 
canvas against winds and tides, twelve miles an hour." 
Had Napoleon entertained the scheme of Fulton, and had 
Jerome been a Blake, or a Nelson, how widely different 
might have been the condition of mankind ! It is at least a 



i48 JEROME BONAPARTE. 

startling fancy to imagine the mighty agency of steam first 
committed to the hands of such a man as Napoleon ! 

II. 

Being fifteen years younger than Napoleon, we find Je- 
rome, with tis sister Caroline, at Madame Campan's estab- 
lishment in Paris, during his brother's first campaign in 
Italy — after which, we follow him to the College of Juilly, 
where he continued his studies, till Napoleon was placed 
at the head of the Consular Government. Although he had 
not yet completed his fifteenth year, he was put into the 
navy, where he had every opportunity of distinguishing him- 
self. In 1801, he received the command of the corvette 
L' Epervier, and sailed in the expedition to St. Domingo, 
which was commanded by his brother-in-law, Grcneral Le 
Clerc. In March, the following year, he was sent back to 
France with dispatches, announcing the successful landing 
of the expedition, and the capture of Cape Frangois. The 
intelligence was received with transports of joy by the 
French people — it was believed to be the forerunner of the 
recovery of that important colony ; and as the young lieu- 
tenant had distinguished himself in the expedition, the 
French nation were ready to recognize in him a Montenotte 
=hero of the sea. Remaining, however, at Brest, longer 
than was necessary, with perhaps some indulgences common 
to sea-faring youth. Napoleon himself undertook to reply tc 
a letter of Jerome to Bourrienne, in which a particularly 
interesting account was given of his recent adventures on 
shore : — " I have seen your letter, M. I'Enseigne de Yaisseau, 
and am waiting with impatience to hear that you are on board 
your ship, studying a profession, intended to be the scene of 
your glory. Die young, if you ever intend to disgrace your 
name ; for if you live to sixty, without having served your 



JEBOME'S MARRIAGE TO MISS PATTERSON. 4-49 

country, you had better not have been born.'*' Soon after 
the receipt of this letter, he sailed for Martinique, and while 
there, he resided with Madame de la Pagerie, Josephine's 
mother. When hostilities began between France and Eng- 
land, Jerome was looking for an opportunity to distinguish 
himself, and his vessel cruised about for several months, on 
our southern coast, when she put into the port of New- York. 
The name of his brother had already echoed through the 
western world, and wherever he appeared, he was greeted 
with the most marked attentions. He went much into so- 
ciety in New- York, Philadelphia, and Baltimore, and having 
formed an acquaintance with Miss Elizabeth Patterson, 
of the latter city, he conc<^ived an ardent attachment for her, 
and they were married in Baltimore, December 24th, 1803. 
The marriage-ceremony was performed by John Carroll, 
Bishop of Baltimore, (and brother of the last signer of the 
Declaration of Independence), agreeably to the rites of the 
Eoman Catholic Church, and the laws of the United States. 
This ceremony was preceded by a marriage-contract drawn 
up by Mr. Dallas, afterwards Secretary of the Treasury, and 
witnessed by M. Sotin, Commissary of Commercial Rela- 
tions of the French Republic, and Alexander Camus, after- 
wards Minister of Foreign Affairs of Jerome's kingdom of 
Westphalia, John Comegys, and the Mayor of the city of 
Baltimore. Miss Patterson, his wife, was the daughter of a 
rich merchant of that city, who was born of a Scotch family 
in the north of Ireland. She was an exceedingly beautiful 
and accomplished young lady, and fully worthy of the most 
illustrious nuptials. It is believed that the attachment Avas 
mutual, and ardent, and the fairest prospects opened before 
them in the future. 



450 JEROME BONAPARTE. 

III. 

For more than a year, Jerome remained in this country, 
visiting almost every object of interest with his young wife, 
and they were everywhere treated with the utmost kindness 
and attention. It has been suggested that the cause of his 
remaining so long in the United States, was the offence 
which his marriage had given to his brother Napoleon, who, 
having already in contemplation the elevation of all his 
brothers to European thrones, wished to form for them 
matrimonial alliances with the Princesses of the royal 
houses of Europe. However this may be, as we shall pre- 
sently see, the marriage was never acknowledged by the 
Emperor. 

In the spring of 1805, Jerome embarked with his wife for 
Europe in the American ship Erin. When their vessel 
arrived at Lisbon, [in May], Jerome started for Paris, 
directing the ship to proceed to Amsterdam, since, owing to 
the delicate health of his wife, she thought it not prudent to 
risk the fatigues of so long a journey, and also to the fact 
that some doubt was entertained, whether a passport could 
be procured, which would admit her into France. On the 
arrival of the Erin, at the Tex el, Mrs. Bonaparte learned that 
an order had already been received from the government at 
Paris, prohibiting her landing. She accordingly sailed for 
England, where she arrived in the month ^f June, and took 
up her residence at Camberwell, in the neighborhood of 
London, where she passed the summer. On the 7th of July, 
[1805], she gave birth to her son, Jerome Napoleon Bona- 
parte, now a citizen of Baltimore. Jerome, who was affec- 
tionately attaclied to his wife, brought all the influence lie 
could to appease the anger of his brother, but his endeavors 
were fruitless. Napoleon would not recognize the mar- 
riage, nor allow Jerome to bring his wife to Paris. Be- 




MISS PATTERSON. 



451 

lieving that if she should once appear before the Emperor, 
her beauty, grace and accomplishments, would secure for her 
a generous reception ; he hoped till the last, that this privi- 
lege would be accorded to him. The request, however, was 
resolutely refused. No step had been taken in Europe to 
annul this marriage until March 3d, [1805], when the Empe- 
ror caused his Council of State to enact a special decree, 
*' forbidding all civil officers of the Empire to receive on 
their registers a transcript of the act of celebration of a 
pretended marriage contracted by Jerome Bonaparte, in a 
foreign country.'' This decree, amounting to a declaration 
of the nullity of the marriage related to the formality pre- 
scribed by Article 171 of the Civil Code, viz : that three 
months after the return to France of a French subject, he 
should transcribe on the Public Register at the place of his 
domicil the act of the celebration of any marriage con- 
tracted in a foreign country. 

IV. 

In the following May, the Emperor, in a letter to Pius 
YII., requested him to grant a bull annulling the marriage. 
From this letter, which was dated May 24, 1805, a copy of 
which we have been favored with, by a member of the Bo- 
naparte family, we make the following extract : — 

" I have frequently spoken to your Holiness, of a young 
brother, nineteen years of age, whom I sent in a frigate to 
America, and who after a sojourn of a month, although a 
minor, married a Protestant, a daughter of a merchant of 
the United States. He has just returned. He is fully con- 
scious of his fault. I have sent back to America, Miss Pat- 
terson, who calls herself his wife. By our laws, the mar- 
riage is null. A Spanish priest, so far forgot his duties, as 
to pronounce the benediction. I desire from your Holines? 



452 JEROME BONAPARTE. 

a bull, annulling the marriage. I senl your Ilolinesa 
several papers, from one of which, by Cardinal Casselli, 
your Holiness will receive much light. I could easily have 
this marriage broken in Paris, since the Galilean Church 
pronounces such matrimonies null. But it appears to me 
better to have it done in Rome, on account of the example 
to sovereign families marrying Protestants. I beg your 
Holiness to do this quietly, and as soon as I know that you 
are willing to do it, I will have it broken here, civilly. It 
is important for France, that there should not be a Protest- 
ant young woman so near my person. It is dangerous that 
a minor and a distinguished youth, should be exposed to 
such seduction against the Civil Laws and all, sorts of pro- 
priety." 

V. 

Before giving the reply of the Pontiff, it is proper to cor- 
rect some of the Emperor's misrepresentations. So far from 
Jerome having been only a month in the United States before 
the marriage, he had been here several months ; and the 
marriage-ceremony had been postponed for nearly two 
months after the time first determined on, as we have 
learned from private sources, and as any reader may learn 
from Mr. Jefferson's letter of that time to the American 
Minister at Paris, and as appears from theJife of Pius YII. 
by Artaud, page 06^ volume ii., second edition. The mar- 
riage had taken place in spite of the urgent and reiterated 
o])position of M. Pichon, the French Charge d' Affaires a 
Washington. The friends of the Patterson family — eithe* 
directly or through General Smith, a Senator of the United 
States — were apprised of the invalidity with which the 
marriage Avould be regarded by the French civil law. The 
first reason was, want of consent of the mother of Jerome. 



453 

[who was still living], and his minority ; and, secondly, the 
obstacles offered by law to the marriage of an officer of the 
army or navy without the consent of his government. Not- 
withstanding this notice the family proceeded. The Marquis 
of Casa-Irugo, Spanish Minister in Washington, from what 
motive we cannot say, did not hesitate to ask from the 
parents of Miss Patterson her hand for Jerome Bonaparte — 
Senor Casa-Irugo was himself married to an American 
lady — But what appeared most extraordinary, was the con- 
duct of the French Consul at Baltimore, who happened to 
be M. Sotin, the former Minister of Police in France, and 
who in that quality had presided on the 18th Fructador. 
M. Sotin sent into exile [under the guise of a civil office] to 
the United States, by his appointment as Yice Consul at 
Savannah, would have died from the unhealthiness of the 
climate, if M. Pichon had not transferred him to the Con- 
sulate at Baltimore. M. Pichon, detained at Washington 
by important political affairs, had ordered M. Sotin to 
present a formal protest against the marriage founded on 
the civil laws of France. In defiance of his injunction, M. 
Sotin assisted as a witness at the ceremony of the marriage, 
which was solemnized by Bishop Carroll. It was the inter- 
vention of Senor Casa-Irugo which gave rise to the mention 
in Napoleon's letter of the presence of a Spaniard. Bishop 
Carroll was an American. The marriage was celebrated 
with all the formalities required by the Catholic laws ; and, 
although Napoleon was right in his construction of the civil 
laws, he encountered ecclesiastical obstacles in his applica- 
tion to the Pope, somewhat stronger than he anticipated, as 
we shall see in the next paragraph. 



454 JEROME BONAPARTE. 

VI. 

From an exact copy of the original, whicli was ma ie in 
Paris thirty years ago, we here give the answer of Pius 
YII., to the Emperor : — 

" From the Vatican, June 26th, 1805. 
Emperor and Royal Majesty : 

" I beg your Majesty not to attribute the delay in the 
return of the courier, to any other cause than a desire to 
employ all the means in our power to comply with the re- 
quests of your Majesty, communicated to us by the letter, 
which, together with its accompanying documents, was 
handed to us by the courier himself. 

" In everything which depended upon us, viz., inviolable 
secrecy, we have felt honored in yielding to the solicitations 
of your Majesty with the most scrupulous exactness : hence 
we have confined entirely to ourself the investigation of 
the petition concerning the judgment on the marriage in 
question. 

" In the crowd of affairs w^hich overwhelm us, we have 
taken all the care, and given ourself all the trouble to derive 
personally from all sources, the means of making the most 
careful researches to ascertain if our Aposotlio authority 
could furnish any method of satisfying the wishes of your Ma- 
jesty, which, considering their end, it would have been very 
agreeable to us to second. But in whatev-er light we hate 
considered it, the result of our examination has been that of 
all the motives that have been proposed which we can 
imagine, there is not one which allows us to gratify your 
Majesty as we should be glad to do, by declaring the 
nullity of the marriage. The three documents which your 
Majesty has sent us, being based on principles contrary to 
each other are reciprocally destroyed. The first, setting 
aside all other absolute impediments, pretends that there 



THE POPE S LETTER TO NAPOLEON. 455 

are only two whicli can apply to the case, viz., difference of 
the religion of the contracting parties, and the absence of 
the curate at the celebration of the marriage. The second, 
rejecting these two impediments, deduces two others from 
the want of the consent of the mother, and the relations of 
tlie young man, a minor, and of the rape which is designated 
under the name of seduction. The third, disagrees with the 
second, and proposes as the motive of nullity the want of 
consent of the curate of the husband, which it pretends is 
necessary, since he has not changed his residence, because, 
according to the disposition of the Council of Trent, the per- 
mission of the curate of the parish is absolutely necessary in 
marriages. 

" But from an analysis of these conflicting opinions it 
results that the proposed impediments are four in number. 
On examining them separately, however, it has not been pos- 
sible to find one which, in the present case, and according 
to the principles of the Church, can authorize us to declare 
the nullity of the marriage contracted and already con- 
summated. The difference of religion considered by the 
Church as an absolute impediment, does not obtain between 
two persons who have been baptized, even when one of them 
is not in the Catholic communion. This impediment obtains 
only in marriage contracted between a Christian and an 
infidel. These marriages between Protestants and Catho- 
lics, although disapproved of by the Church, are neverthe- 
less acknowledged as valid." 

This is but a brief extract from a long letter, in which 
the Pontiff sweeps over the entire field of ecclesiastical 
learning, showing at every step that there was no authority 
vested in him, nor could any precedent be found in the his- 
tory of the Church for dissolving the marriage ; and like an 
honest man as he was, Pius VII. comes to the conclusion, 



4e56 JEROME BONAPARTE. 

which he unhesitatingly announces, that he neither car nor 
will annul the marriage, between Jerome Bonaparte and 
Elizabeth Patterson. In the course the Emperor tock in 
this case there was not a shadow of justification, and he 
cannot be vindicated ; and if a learned and complacent Pon- 
tijBf could not find in the library of the Vatican a single pre- 
cedent for so bad an act, we do not deem it our duty to 
extend our search any further. 

Finding that to persist in his opposition to the will of his 
brother, would defeat his object and only off'er to him a life 
of exile, and hoping that time would accomplish for him 
what persuasion could not, he accepted a mission from the 
Emperor to the Dey of Algiers, to demand the restoration 
of Genoese sailors and citizens, who had been captured on 
the Mediterranean, and carried into slavery. Young Je- 
rome filled this embassy with ability, and acquitted himself 
with great honor. He returned from the expedition with 
250 Genoese captives, and landed them once more on the 
glad and free shores of their beautiful and beloved city. 
Their return was celebrated by a gay and gladsome festival ; 
the young brother of the French Emperor was accorded a 
triumph, and an arch was erected to him, on which were in- 
scribed in letters of light and gold — " To the Young Nep- 
tune of the Sea." 

, VII. 

Early the following winter, he took command of the 
Veteran — a line-of-bat tie-ship — and sailed for the third 
time to the West Indies. Having executed his orders in a 
cruise of eight months, he returned to France, capturing on 
his way six English merchant-men. He was pursued by an 
English fleet, and to escape a capture his vessel was stranded 
on the coast of Brittany, but the crew were saved. When 




JEROME NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 

Son of the King of Westpualia 



MARRIES A PRINCESS OF WERTEMBERG. 457 

be reached Paris, he was decorated ^rith the cordon of the 
Legion of Honor, promoted to the rank of Admiral, and 
created a Prince of the Empire. 

But although success had attended all his maratime at- 
tempts thus far, and the persuasions of Xapoleon and the 
flatteries of friends seemed to invite him to a career of 
glory on the sea, yet Jerome was not after all a( heart a 
sailor. He solicited from his brother service on the land, 
and in a manner which showed that he had finally abandoned 
all intention of reaping honors on the ocean. In November 
we trace him at the head of a column of soldiers of Bavaria 
and Wertemburg in the reduction of the fortresses of Si- 
lesia — the month after directing the blockade of Glogan. 
He conducted himself with so much abilty that [in March, 
1807,] he was promoted to a General of Division in the 
Grande Armee. 

VIII. 

Thus far, it is believed, the Prince had not only kept up 
a constant correspondence with his American wife, but he 
had continued to entertain for her the same attachment he 
felt in the beginning ; but finding that every artifice and 
attempt at persuasion failed with his brother, and being- 
assured that the American marriage never would be recog- 
nized, he yielded at last for the sake of peace, and doubtless 
under the illusion of glory, to the imperial policy of Napo- 
leon, and immolated himself, to use his own language, on 
the altar of the Napoleon Dynasty. The Emperor was af- 
fectionately attached to Jerome, and he sought out for him 
a match which he thought would secure his domestic happi- 
ness, a brilliant career, and at the same time plant the roots 
of another associate dynasty of the Bonapartes. On the 
12th of August he married the Princess Frederica Catlierina, 
daughter of the King of Wertemberg. A few days after 



458 JEROME BOXAPAKTE. 

liis marriage, lie was proclaimed King of Westphalia. On 
the 7th of the following December, an imperial decree was 
issued, containing the constitution of the new kingdom. It 
was published the 15th of that month, (the birthday of 
Jerome, who had just completed his 22d year), and on the 
21st he made a public entry into his Capital. 

IX. 

It ought to be a matter of no great surprise if this group 
of Corsican boys and girls, who were thrown by revolution 
and conquest high upon the summits of the earth, did not 
display the loftiest qualities of statesmanship, or exemplify, 
in every act of their lives the highest political wisdom. 
Students of history in future ages, will doubtless contem- 
plate the whole period as one without precedent in the 
achievements of men and the convulsions of nations. Nor 
will they read without astonishment those pages which 
record the annals of the reigns of the Bonaparte Xings and 
Princes ; for really, in tracing the contrast between them 
and their contemporaries, predecessors and successors of 
other dynasties, we must confess, that so far as royalty can 
honor human nature, and much farther than it generally 
does, it did in the case of the Bonapartes. But it should 
never be forgotten that those were new kings and queens. 
They had not been brought up under despotisms — they had 
none of the souvenirs of monarchy or tyranny to influence 
them. They had no despotic precedents in their family to 
guide them on the royal road which hereditary princes travel 
as they trample down the rights of men. Along the road 
of empire, they marched more like brave men than regal 
princes. In the case of Jerome, English historians particu- 
larly, have indulged in elaborate descriptions of the volatile 
and school-boy conduct of the King of Westphalia. 



JEROME AS KING OF WESTPHALIA. 459 

It would not be strange if he diffused through his palace 
the joyousness of his own youthful buoyancy ; nor that he 
should have gathered around him the gay companions of his 
youth — any generous young king would have done the same 
thing. But we have not heard that his palace was disgraced 
by immoralities, or that he did not- acquit himself as becomes 
a king and more than that — a man. A celebrated Scotch wri- 
ter says, that he played at leap-frog with his courtiers in the 
royal palace. So did Henry IV. ; but his plume at the bat- 
tle of Navarre was the oriflamme of France ; and it was 
reserved for Jerome, the King of Westphalia, to open the 
terrific slaughter of Waterloo. 



It is said that when the moment came for the young King 
to deliver his address before the Council of State, one of his 
ministers put into his hands a speech which had been pre- 
pared in the regular way, as speeches are prepared for other 
kings. Jerome, however, rose to his feet when the time 
came, and, with his thanks to the minister, laying the pre- 
pared speech upon the council-table, delivered what he had 
to say with fluency and grace ; and he displayed withal a 
degree of political knowledge, and an acquaintance with the 
internal affairs of his State, which surprised his Council. 
But he found his treasury empty, and the salaries of all the 
employees of the government several months in arrears; 
and like many other Christians, he was obliged to have 
recourse to the Jews. He borrowed two millions of francs 
of Isaac Jacobson, a banker. A few days after, a deputa- 
tion of Israelites in Westphalia, asked for an audience, 
when they presented to the King a kind and loyal address, 
to which the King said, " I like your address, gentlemen. 
That clause of my Constitution which establishes th« 



■460 JEROME BOXAPARTE. 

equality of religions, is in unison witli my own heart. No 
law ought to interfere with the exercise of the religious 
worship of any man. Every subject ought to be as free to 
observe the rules of his faith, as the king himself. It is tlie 
duty of the citizen only, that the laws of the government 
ought to regulate. I hope I shall never have cause to regret 
that I favor and protect the Israelites of- my kingdom." 

Jerome was as good as his word. A Jew in his kingdom 
was as good a man as a Christian, if he Avere as good a 
citizen. Hence Westphalia became a Holy Land to the 
tribes of Israel in Europe. Jews were admitted to public 
offices. Says an English writer — " The Minister of State 
was a Jew; the Councillor of Finances was a Jew; the 
Commissary of War was a Jew ; the Superintendent of 
Hospitals was a Jew ; the Burgomaster was a Jew." This 
Christian conduct of Jerome shocked the sensibilities of 
many of the pious people of Europe. The English journals 
rang with the scandal, and English books have been filled 
with it to this day. The crime of Jerome was, that he re- 
cognized in a descendant of Abraham — the oldest and the 
only aristocrat worth mentioning — the title of man. 

XI. 

The Court of Jerome was more like the well-regulated 
reception-rooms of a republican President, than the halls 'of 
a King. A degree of familiarity and cordiality was wit 
nessed, which offended many of the gray-headed courtier 
of the Continent ; but men soon began to respect the King 
and, forsooth, there was good cause for doing it. Like all 
the Bonapartes, he began to tear down the effete, the old, 
the dead — and build up the new, the fresh, the vigorous ; 
even in Westphalia, the past with its stagnant formulas 
gave way to the living, effervescing young age. He tore 




JEROME NAPOLEON BONAPARTE— U. S. ARMY. 



TBE GOYERXMEXT OF JEROME. 401" 

down a part of his Capital, and sent for Grandjean, tlio 
celebrated Parisian architect, to rebuild it. He began pub- 
lic works all over his kingdom ; and of him we may say as 
of the other princes of the Napoleon dynasty — if they could 
have remained in power a single generation longer, they 
would have cured mankind of despotism forever. It was 
this appreciation of the necessity of progress, this caring 
for the material and the primal wants of man — the solici- 
tude for whatever concerns the growth of nations, the de- 
velopment of their resources, the extension of their power 
that stamped the Bonaparte Kings with that majestic seal 
which Macauley affixes to the philosophy of Bacon when he 
says, that under his tuition mankind began to make pro- 
gress ; whereas, for many ages they had been only marking 
time. 

XII. 

Jerome was beloved by his subjects, and he managed the 
affairs of his kingdom with discretion and ability. Attempts 
have been made in various works written at the time, to 
depreciate his qualities for government ; but the souvenirs 
that yet remain of him in the territory he once governed, 
are grateful to him still. Not a moment has passed since he 
ceased to reign on the throne of Westphalia, that he has not 
reigned in the hearts of his people. In 1812, the Emperor 
summoned him to join in the Russian expedition. He com- 
manded the German Division, and in the battle of Mihilow, a 
daring movement was crowned with the most brilliant suc- 
cess. He was unfortunate at Smolensko, and the Emperor 
in a freak of passion dismissed him. Napoleon, however, 
regretted it afterwards. In 1813, when the French were 
compelled to evacuate Germany, Jerome was obliged to fly 
before the march of the Russian and Saxon troops. He 
was awakened in his palace on the morning of the 28th of 



462 JEROME BONAPARTE. 

September by the cannon of Czerniclieff, who appeared at 
the head of his Cossacks. Dressing himself in haste he 
mounted a horse, and seeing it was vain to attempt to with- 
stand the overwhelming force brought against him, he fled 
with his staff and the Ministers of State to Coblentz. But 
the Cossacks did not long hold his Capital, and Jerome soon 
returned. In the meantime the battle of Liepsic had been 
fought ; but he did not get the news till the 25th of Octo- 
ber. That evening he left Cassel for the last time, escorted 
by his body-guards. Several days he remained at Cologne, 
but he was compelled at last to part with his devoted fol- 
lowers when he fled to France. 

XIII. 

His amiable wife, the Princess Frederica, accompanied 
her husband on his flight, and remained devoted to him in 
the midst of all his reverses. On the abdication of the 
Emperor, in 1814, they were compelled to fly from Paris. 
On their way to Switzerland, the carriage of the Princess 
was stopped by a gang of villains, acting in concert with 
the Allied Armies. She was robbed of her money and 
jewels, and compelled to depend on her equerry for money 
to defray her expenses to the Canton of Berne, where her 
husband had arrived by a different route, and was waiting 
to greet her. 

Jerome and his wife took refuge in Trieste, where they 
were at the time Napoleon landed from Elba. Murat, then 
King of Naples, had provided a frigate on which the King 
of Westphalia embarked for France, and at the meeting of 
the Champ de Mai, he took his seat in the Chamber of 
Peers. The battle of Waterloo was approaching, and Na- 
poleon, with all the military forces he could drain from the 
Empire, marched to the scene of conquest. Relying on the 



Jerome's American descendants, 463 

discretion and bravery of Jerome, he confided to him the 
important work of opening that last battle, to which he led 
a charge of 6,000 men. 

Waterloo was fought and lost amidst the ruins of 
Napoleon's Empire, whose fragments were swept from the 
face of Europe like chaff from the summer threshing-floor. 
Jerome hastened back to Paris, and after the abdication 
assumed a disguise which protected his life ; and wandering 
from district to district, he at length obtained permission 
from his father-in-law to join his wife at Wertemberg. The 
same autumn the king accorded to him the castle of Elvan- 
gen for a residence, on condition he should never leave it, 
and keep no French in his service. The following year the 
King of Wertemberg conferred upon him the title of Count 
de Montfort ; but he still suffered certain restrictions which 
finally became so irksome, that he obtained leave to with- 
draw and settle in the Austrian Empire. He purchased a 
magnificent chateau near Vienna, and a noble mansion at 
Trieste, in one of which he generally resided. He some- 
times visited Florence and Rome to see the other members 
of his family. By his marriage with the Princess of Wer- 
temberg, he had three children — Jerome Napoleon, born in 
1814 : Matilda, born in 1819 ; and Napoleon, born in 1823. 
A few words on his American descendants : — His son and 
only child by Elizabeth Patterson, born at Camberwell, in 
1805, was brought to America by his mother, and educated 
with care. At an early age he was sent to Harvard Uni 
yersity, and when he graduated, he immediately began the 
study of Law, he was admitted to the bar of Maryland, and 
would doubtless have devoted himself to the practice of that 
profession had not his marriage with a rich lady of Baltimore, 
in addition to his own inheritance, given him so large an 
estate as to demand his uninterrupted personal attention. 



464 JEROME BONAPARTE. 

lie visited Europe and spent some years in traveling and 
study. In the year 1832 he had a son — Napoleon Jerome 
Bonaparte, who displayed at so early an age a taste foi 
military life, that he was thoroughly prepared for West 
Point, from which — after a full course — he has just gradu- 
ated with the highest distinction. He has received his 
commission in the army of the United States, [June, 1852], 
and no young officer has ever entered our service with higher 
qualifications for his profession, more stirring ancestral 
souvenirs, or brighter prospects for fame. May the future 
show that the Bonaparte stem can flourish also in our own 
Republican soil. 

Mr. Jerome Napoleon Bonaparte, now one of the wealthi- 
est and most respected citizens of Baltimore, has devoted 
his life to books, to travel, to society, and to planting. For 
many years he has cultivated large tracks of land, with 
great success — owing doubtless in no little degree to the 
careful attention he has bestowed on the subject of scientific 
agriculture, which multiplies so vastly the generous products 
of the earth. 

Since her divorce was proclaimed by the Imperial Senate 
of France, and the Legislature of Maryland, Mr. Jerome 
Napoleon Bonaparte's mother — Elizabeth Patterson — has 
lived an unmarried life. Opulent, highly educated, and 
gifted with qualities which have rendered Jier happiness in 
a great measure independent of others ; she has passed a 
long, serene and useful life — and doubtless feels now, in the 
evening of her days, that it was no malicious fortune which 
withheld from her an European diadem. The history of the 
family into which she married, strikingly illustrates Shaks- 
peare's words, " Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown." 
As time rolls on, such heads will lie more uneasy still. 



RETURN OF THE BOXAPARTES TO PARIS. 465 
XV 

More than lialf a century had swept by since the glorious 
vision of Napoleon's star burst upon the world. Thrones 
had risen and disappeared like brilliant but transient meteors 
in the heavens. At last men had nearly forgotten that a 
Napoleon Dynasty ever existed. That it would ever be 
restored few believed, even in moments of inspired hope 
Its founder, his brothers and sisters, their wives and hus- 
bands, were dead. The brows of so many beautiful women 
which had been encircled with diadems had mouldered — and 
the bright eyes which had flashed in the radiance of impe- 
rial splendor had lost their light in the tomb. The hands 
which had wielded the blade in battle, and swayed the 
sceptres of kingdoms, had long rested in the nerveless sleep 
of the dead. 

One only of that family of kings and queens, that had 
worn a crown still remained. Jerome — the King of West- 
phalia — the youngest of the brothers, heard the tocsin of 
the Revolution of February, 1848, which ended the Bour- 
bon Dynasty, and once more he turned his face towards 
France. The Bonapartes always go back to Paris — it is 
now doubly sacred to them, for it is the sepulchre of the 
Emperor. The flight of Louis Phillipe proclaimed that 
the long exile of the Bonapartes was ended. 




ELIZA. 



' vr-^imjprt?p ^^t^^3njs kTsm^iaj:)tJi'.'nm! 



MARIA- ANN A-ELIZ A— GRAND-DUCHESS OF TUS- 
CANY. 

Born at Ajaccio, January 8. 1777— Died at Trieste, Angnst 9, 1820 
I. 

Maria- Anna-Eliza, the eldest of Napoleon's three sisters, 
was born January 8th, 177T. At an early age she was sent 
to the estaHishment of St. Cyr, which had been founded by 
Louis XI Y., under the patronage of Madame de Maintenon. 
At this school, she enjoyed every advantage for intellectual 
culture and grace of manners, and in her twentieth year, 
about the time of Napoleon's first campaign in Italy, she 
married Felice Bacciochi, a nobleman of Corsica, who held 
the rank of a Captain of Infantry. Three years afterwards, 
while her husband was with the army, on one of its cam- 
paigns, she went to reside with her brother Lucien, at Paris ; 
he being at the time Minister of the Interior. She was 
distinguished for an extraordinary thirst for intelligence, 
appreciation of art and literature, and delighted in the 
society of men of learning and taste. Chateaubriand, La 
Harpe, and the poet Fontanes, with many other men of 
genius and fame, sought her society and appreciated her 
talents. 

After the establishment of the Empire, Napoleon, [1805] 
consolidated the Republics of Lucca and Piombino into a 
Principality, which he bestowed upon his sister Eliza. At 
the same time, her husband, Bacciochi, was created a Prince. 
He was a man of elegant manners, and considerable literary 
and artistic accomplishments. We have been often amused 
to see British writers, some of whom, doubtless, never passed 



4G8 MARIA-AXNA-ELIZA. 

bej^ond the Channel, speak depreciatingly of the manners 
and refinement of these new made Princes and Nobles of Na- 
poleon's Empire. Those who are familiar with the elegant 
manners of the refined Italians, read such slurs with a smile. 
Whatever may be the crimes of the Italians, they have never 
been accused by those who knew them, of coarseness of 
manner or lack of refinement of mind and taste. 



Having exhibited very superior qualities in her public 
position as the Princess of Lucca, Eliza was in 1809 created 
Grand Duchess and Governess- General of Tuscany. Her 
disposition was more like Napoleon's than either of his 
other sisters, or even his brothers. She had an instinctive 
aptitude for public life, and conducted the department of 
Foreign Affairs of her little State entirely herself. She 
wrote her own letters to the French Minister, and in every- 
thing which concerned the honor or the glory of her Duchy, 
she manifested the greatest jealousy of French interference. 
The Minister of Foreign Affairs of the Empire was often 
obliged by Napoleon to yield to her demands, for she per- 
sisted so resolutely in every requisition which she conceived 
the honor of her State and the good of her subjects de- 
manded, that her brother, who was often appealed to by his 
minister, ended by saying — " If she insists upon it, it must 
be done." She had the same taste for military parades, 
and martial display as distinguished Murat. She was often 
whole days on horseback organizing battalions, disciplining 
her army and cashiering her generals. Such a woman 
would be likely to overshadow any gentleman whom fortune 
made her husband. The Prince was a modest and unobtru- 
sive man, but far from being effeminate. He was destitutcB 
of none of those manly qualities which are expected to dis- 



Eliza's reign and character. 469 

tinguish the sterner sex, but Eliza was masculine in lier 
form, her habits, and her taste, and presuming, doubtless, not 
a little on her relationship with the Emperor, she conducted 
all the military reviews herself — the Prince, her husband, 
acting in the humbler capacity of Aid-de-Camp. But if in 
these respects she even affected something of the brusquerie 
of her brother, she felt the same earnest love for construct- 
ng public works. She had thousands of men at work, 
uuilding new roads, draining marshes, cultivating deserted 
wastes, establishing seminaries for education — in fact, the 
most of her time was spent in these noble pursuits or in 
the mimicry of battle — martial fetes, and reviews, Wil- 
liams, a young English traveler, who was not very lavish 
of his compliments to the Bonaparte family, says that she 
was greatly beloved by her subjects, and during her reign, 
Lucca became a paradise. 

III. 

When Murat made his entry into Eome, January, [1814J, 
he sent forward his troops to march upon Parma. The 
Grand Duchess saw that resistance would be in vain, against 
the superior force of her brother-in-law, and she retired to 
Lucca, where she remained till the following year ; when 
the Allied Armies took possession of all Italy, and she was 
sent to join her sister Caroline, in Bohemia. 

Some members of the Bonaparte family seemed to have % 
great liking for Trieste, and among them, Eliza requested 
permission from the Austrian government to reside there. 
This request was granted, and she spent the rest of her days 
there with all the luxury which wealth and refinement could 
bestow. She died on the 9th of August, 1820, leaving an 
honored name, and having displayed many of the elements 
of an exalted character. Napoleon himself received the 



470 MARIA- AXXA-ELIZA. 

news not long before his own death. When the intelligence 
reached him, he retired into a room by himself, where he 
remained for several hours. No event during his long exile 
had made him so sad ; and when his attendants entered to 
awake him from the stupor of his grief, he replied — " Yes 
Eliza has gone — she has shown us the way. I used to think 
that death had forgotten our family — but. now he has begun 
to strike. He has taken Eliza, and I shall be the first to 
follow her." — He was. Her husband took up his residence 
in Bologna after the death of his wife, where he maintained 
a princely style of hospitality. They had two children — 
Napoleonne Eliza, born June 3, 1806, and Jerome Charles, 
Prince of Piombino, born July 3, 1810. The daughter 
married Count Camerata, and by both children, we believe, 
numerous descendants have been born. 

Madame Junot says — " The Grand Duchess of Tuscany 
was ill-made ; her bones were square and prominent, and 
her limbs seemed tacked to her body just as it happened." 
The Prince of Canino, (Lucien), who was much taller and 
larger than his brothers, exhibited the same want of har- 
mony in his form as the Grand Duchess of Tuscany. There 
is one point of general resemblance — the countenance of 
Madame Mere — in which all her eight children might be 
recognized not only in the features, but in the peculiar ex- 
pression of each. She entertained a great admiration for 
Yoltaire, and on one occasion when the Emperor had pro- 
nounced a certain drama of the time of Louis XI Y., to be 
good for nothing, she immediately commenced an attack on 
Corneille — the grounds of which were taken from Yoltaire's 
notes, which are certainly neither impartial nor just in any 
point of view. The Emperor probably felt a little irritated 
at an attempt to refute him, particularly as he knew that hia 
sister was wrong. The disquisition grew warm, and angry 




>^ 



PAULINE BONAPARTE. 



4Y1 

W(?rds passed between them. At lengtli, Napoleon left the 
room, exclaiming — " This is intolerable ! You are abso- 
lutely a caricature of the Duchess du Maine." 



IV. 

MARIA PAULINE— PRINCESS BORGHESE. 

Bora at Ajaccio, October 20, 1780— Died at Florence, June 9, 1825. 

Pauline was born twelve years after her brother Napo- 
leon. When the family were compelled to fly from Corsica, 
she was yet a little girl. From her childhood, however, she 
was regarded as extremely beautiful. Napoleon loved her 
better than either of his sisters, and although she was way- 
ward, coquettish, frivolous, and vain, she was always fasci- 
nating in her manner, elegant in her accomplishments, ex- 
quisite in her taste, and the world has long known that 
Canova chose her as the most peerless model of beauty in 
face and form, in all Europe. After the exile of the family 
to Marseilles, she was very much admired and caressed by 
the officers of the government and others who saw her, 
and she received the most brilliant offers of marriage from 
persons of distinction, although the family had at that time 
none of the means of luxury, and were deprived even of 
many of the comforts of life. 

In 1801, Pauline married General Le Clerc. He was a 
man of brilliant genius, and would doubtless have adorned 
the most splendid period of Napoleon's Empire. Imme- 
diately after the marriage, he received command of the 
French army in Portugal, and was subsequently intrusted 
with the expedition to St. Domingo. His wife accompanied 
him on the voyage. He was unfortunate in the expedition, 
and fell a victim to the climate. Pauline at once prepared 



472 MARIA PAULINE. 

to return to France, and having with a pardonable precau- 
tion deposited her treasures in the triple coffin which car- 
ried her husband to his native country, she sailed for France. 
She fortunately escaped the hazards which attended almost 
every maritime expedition of her country at that time, and 
the suddenness with which she merged in the voluptuous 
pleasures of the Capital, and the gayety she displayed, gave 
just reason for the remark which has frequently been made, 
that the marriage was doubtless one of convenience, and 
that she had never been much attached to her husband. 



Two years later, [Nov. 1803], she contracted an alliance 
with Prince Borghese, a man of great elegance and wealth. 
Descended from one of the proudest Italian families which 
had flourished for many centuries, and held the highest 
stations in the state, the proprietor of one of the most mag- 
nificent villas in the neighborhood of Rome, and the pos- 
sessor of perhaps the richest private Gallery of Art in 
Europe, with an income of $250,000 a year from his own 
estates and a dowry of $2,500,000 with his young wife, and 
the revenues of Guastalla and Piacenza, it was regarded as 
not only a proper, but decidedly the most brilliant matri- 
monial alliance that was formed during the entire ascend- 
ency of Napoleon. The marriage took place in Paris, with 
every circumstance of pomp and splendor ; and from the 
moment the wedded pair started, till their greeting in the 
halls of the ancestors of the Prince Borghese, every league 
of the journey was like a triumphal progress. For a great 
distance, Pauline was attended by a guard of honor sent by 
her brother, and as the sister of Napoleon, and the wife of 
the most distinguished Prince in Italy, she received royal 
honors at every town and village. 



CHARACTER AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS OF PAULINE. 473 

Pauline was the idol of the brilliant circle that now- 
gathered around her, and she must have been a woman of 
almost superhuman virtue, judgment and discretion, to have 
resisted with entire success the fascinations that played 
around every step. With nothing left on earth to sigh for, 
that opulence, station, beauty, health and accomplishments 
of every nature could command ; warm-hearted and gene- 
rous, sensitive and vain, her heart after all, constituted the 
only field for adventure and the only scene for conquest. 

Her husband was somewhat indolent in his disposition ; 
and, like indolent men, was jealous. of the activity of others. 
His wife was regarded as the most beautiful woman in 
Europe ; and, although his jealousy was doubtless inflamed 
by many an lago, and multitudes of writers have re-echoed 
the scandals that were spread at the time, no satisfactory 
evidence has ever been adduced in any quarter that Pauline 
was not a virtuous woman. Those who were mainly instru- 
mental in originating and circulating these slanders at the 
time about her, were the very persons who had endeavored 
to load the name of Josephine with obloquy. Still Pauline's 
manners, like those of other women who far excel the rest 
of their sex in personal charms, were more winning and fas- 
cinating than ugliness ever learns to display. Those who 
saw her could not withhold their admiration ; and when 
gallant and handsome men extended this homage to adora- 
tion, like many other beautiful women, she could not escape 
it. But the blood of Madame Mere was in her veins ; and 
the Bonapartes, especially the women of that family, have 
always been too proud and haughty to degrade themselves. 
Even had they lacked what is technically called " moral 
character,'' their virtue has been intrenched behind their 
ancestry, and the achievements of their own family. Nor 
was there at any time an instant when any one of the Bona 



474 MAETA PAULINE. 

partes could have overstepped, by a hair's breadth, th(3 line 
of decency, without being fatally exposed. None of them 
pursued the noiseless tenor of their way along the vale of 
obscurity. They were walking in the clear sunshine, on 
the topmost summits of the earth, and millions of enemies 
were watching every step they took. The highest genius 
of historians, the bitterest satire of dramatists, the meanest 
and most malignant pens of the journalists, have assailed 
them for more than half a century ; and yet the Republican 
who dares to lift the veil from the domestic life of the fami- 
lies of the old dynasties of Europe, is branded as a slanderer. 
A recent instance in point — vide the attacks upon Lord 
Holland for a few glimpses he has afforded us of the morals 
of the European courts. 

We have written these words because a Republican is the 
only man likely to speak well, even of the good things of 
the Bonaparte family. It was, and is, and will be the dy- 
nasty of the people — standing there, from 1804, a fearful 
antagonism against the feudal age, and its souvenirs of op- 
pression and crime. 

VI. 

Pauline was doubtless imperious ; and it would have been 
a miracle if she had been always a gentle and submissive 
wife. A separation was finally agreed on, and the haughty 
and beautiful Princess returned to Paris. She divided her 
time between the Tuilleries and the elegant chateau of 
Neuilly. She sometimes presumed on the favor and affection 
of her brother ; and he indulged her in all her caprices, and 
gave his homage even to her fascinations ; but whenever 
she laid her tapered finger upon the lowest wheel of his 
imperial administration, he rebuked her with the sternness 
and ferocity of a lion. The profligate Fouche, who played 
the part of political scavenger to kings, queens, reigns, 



PAULINE BAXISHED FROM THE COURT. 475 

and revolutions, till his gray locks ^'ent down in infamy to 
the grave, wrote a book called his " Memoires.^^ It is filled 
with lies which nobody ever believed, and it finally divested 
him of the reputation he had long enjoyed, of being the 
" cleverest '' man in Europe. Fouche wrote so many impro- 
bable lies in his book, that even his truths were rejected. 
Sir Walter Scott, who has never been accused of eulogizing 
Napoleon or any of the Bonaparte family, in reply to an 
odious story started by Fouche about Pauline and her 
brother, says — " The gross and guilty enormities of the 
ancient Roman Emperors do not belong to the character of 
Bonaparte, though foul aspersions have been cast upon him, 
by those who were willing to represent him as in all re- 
spects a counterpart of Tiberius and Caligula." 

YII. 

The marriage of Napoleon with Maria Louisa interfered 
somewhat with the reign of Pauline in the world of taste, 
fashion, and beauty. After the divorce of Josephine, she 
had been the central star of the Court. On the arrival of 
the Archduchess of Austria, Pauline's light paled befoi-e 
the imperial majesty of the new Empress. She withdrew 
from the court, and when she was presented to Maria Louisa 
at Brussels, she impertinently made some gesture, behind 
the Empress's back, in derision of the Autrichienne. A 
tittering which could not be suppressed, went round the 
saloon. Napoleon himself had been looking on Pauline, 
and thus detected her in the act. The next morning she 
received a peremptory order which banished her from the 
court. She retired to Rome in exile and disgrace, where 
she remained in one of the palaces of her husband, still the 
centre of a brilliant circle, till the retirement of her brother 
to Elba. We observe one curious circumstance in the his- 



4.76 MARIA PAULINE. 

tory of each of the brothers and sisters of Napoleon — even 
those with whom he had differed most, those who had 
injured him, and whom he had insulted, all forgave and 
forgot their injuries and animosities when he was hurled 
from the sublimity of his throne to the depth of his exile. 
Pauline, too, flew to France, and saw her brother just 
before his retirement to Elba ; and in October, with thre« 
of her maids of honor, she sailed for Elba in the Empe- 
ror's vessel of war sent for her to Naples. Napoleon 
received her with every mark of affection — had a little 
boudoir built for her in the garden, where she gave her 
balls and concerts. Pauline was one of the principle confi- 
dants of the Emperor when he was meditating his return to 
France. It is not a small compliment to her talents, that he 
confided to her one of the most important parts of that 
strange and difficult drama. She had placed most of her 
fortune and nearly all her private jewels at his disposal ; 
and so well did she play her part, that even on the very 
night of the escape from Elba, she entertained a large com- 
pany at a soiree, with the same thoughtless gayety and ele- 
gant nonchalance which had characterized her lightest and 
most thoughtless days. 

YIII. 

The Reign of the Hundred Days was ended — ^Napoleon 
had been long in exile on the Rock of St. Helena. In July 
1821, when Pauline had received intelligence that the Em.pe 
ror's life was drawing to a close, she wrote an earnest appea 
to the Earl of Liverpool, then Prime Minister of the Britisli 
Government, in which she says — " The malady by which tl e 
Emperor is attacked, will prove mortal, at St. Helena. In 
the name of all the members of the family, I ask for a change 
of climate. If so reasonable a request be denied, it will be 



HER LETTER TO THE EARL OF LIVERPOOL. 477 

a sentence of death pronounced on him — In which case, I 
beg permission to depart for St. Helena, to join my brother, 
and receive his parting breath. I know that the moments 
of his life are numbered, and I should eternally reproach 
myself if I did not use all the means in my power, to assuage 
the sufferings of his last hours, and prove my devotion to 
him." Lord Liverpool granted the request in a letter which 
will always be cited to his honor. But the permission, 
arrived too late — Napoleon was dead. 

After this period, Pauline kept up her establishment at 
Rome, with great splendor, in the Borghese palace — her 
husband choosing to reside at Florence. She spent a por- 
tion of the year in the Yilla Paolina, a beautiful palace 
within the city of Rome. Her residences were marked by 
an unprecedented degree of elegance, refinement and hos- 
pitality. Besides all the entertainments, she gave on a 
larger scale, for her circles of private friends she held con- 
certs and soirees every week. The latter were attended l)y 
the chief personages of Rome — among others there was 
always seen a large number of Cardinals ; her uncle, Car- 
dinal Fesch, being, from the relationship, as much at home 
there as in his own palace. 

IX. 

Madame Junot, who knew her intimately, thus draws her 
portrait : — " Many people have extolled her beauty ; this is 
known from portraits, and even statues of her : still it 
is impossible to form any idea of what this lady — truly ex- 
traordinary as the perfection of her beauty — then was, be- 
cause she was not generally known till her return from St. 
Domingo, when she was already faded, and nothing but the 
shadow of that exquisitely beautiful Pauline, whom we some- 
times admired, as we do a fine statue of Venus, or Galatea.'^ 



478 CAROLIXA-MARIA-ANNONCIADA. 

Pauline always dressed in more exquisite taste than any 
woman in France, except Josephine. And as we wish to 
convey to our readers some exact idea of her classic beauty, 
we will give a brief description of her appearance at a ball 
in the house of Madame Permon, the mother of the Duchess 
D'Abr antes, who says — " Her head-dress consisted of bande- 
lettes, (of a very soft kind of fur, of a tiger pattern), sur- 
mounted by bunches of grapes in gold. She was a faithful 
copy of a Bacchante, such as are seen in antique statues or 
cameos — the form of her head, and the classic regularity of 
her features emboldened her to attempt an imitation which 
would have been hazardous in most women. Her robe, of 
exquisitely fine India muslin, had a deep bordering of gold — 
the pattern was of grapes and vine-leaves. With this she 
wore a tunic of the purest Greek form, with a bordering 
similar to her dress, which displayed her fine figure to ad- 
mirable advantage. This tunic was confined on the 
shoulders by cameos of great value. The sleeve.s, w|iich 
were very short, were lightly gathered on small b^nds, 
which were also fastened with cameos. Her girdle, which 
was placed below the bosom, as is seen in the Greek statues, 
consisted of a gold band, the clasp of which was a superbly 
cut antique stone — Her entrance seemed absolutely to 
illumine the room." 

X. 

CAEOLINE-MARIA-ANNONCIADA— QUEEN OF 
NAPLES. 

Born at Ajaccio, March 26, 1782— Died at Florence, May 18, 1839. 

Caroline, Napoleon's youngest sister, was still a child 
when her brother became chief of the French nation. Her 
sisters had known adversity — she found herself in the midst 




CAROLIXE BOXAPAETE. 



HER MARRIAGE WITH MURAT. 47& 

of luxury and splendor, tlie first moment she entered society. 
Madame Junot says of lier, at this time — " Caroline Bona- 
parte was a very pretty girl, fresh as a rose — not to be 
compared, for the regular beauty of her features, to Pau- 
line, though more pleasing perhaps by the expression of 
her countenance and the brilliancy of her complexion, but 
by no means possessing the perfection of figure which 
distinguished her elder sister. Her head was dispropor- 
tionately large, her bust was too short, her shoulders were 
too round ; but her hands and her arms were models, and 
her skin resembled white satin seen through pink glass ; 
her teeth were fine, as were those of all the Bonapartes ; 
her hair was light. As a young girl, Caroline was charm- 
ing. When her mother brought her to Paris, in 1798, her 
beauty was all in its rosy freshness. Magnificence did 
not become her — brocade did not hang well on her figure, 
and one feared to see her delicate complexion fade under 
the weight of diamonds and rubies.'' She was a companion 
of Hortense at Madame Campan's, where she acquired every 
elegant accomplishment. 

XI." 

On the return of the First Consul from Egypt, he in- 
tended to marry his sister Caroline to Moreau, and at one 
time he had designed her hand for Augereau. But she was 
passionately in love with Murat, who being also enamored 
cf her, their mutual request was immediately granted by 
Napoleon, and their marriage took place in January, 1800. 
It was in the month of October of the same year, that the 
plot of the Infernal Machine was carried into execution. 
On this occasion, Caroline nearly lost her life. She was on 
her way to the opera, near the carriage of Napoleon and 
Josephine. Every glass in her carriage was shattered, and 



480 CAEOLTXA-MARIA-ANNOXCIADA. 

the sliock she suffered was so great, that her child, who was 
born soon after, suffered for a long time with epileptic 
attacks and a feeble constitution. Five years later, Caro- 
line was create"! Grand Duchess of Berg, and two years 
afterwards she became Queen of Naples. 

XII. 

During the eight years she sat on that throne, she 
managed to win the affections of her people ; and as she was 
fond of magnificence and display, and distinguished for 
great generosity, she was one of the most popular princesses 
in Europe. She made frequent journeys to Paris where she 
lived in a style of splendor worthy of the most brilliant 
queens. In the sketch of Murat, we shall speak of her Nea- 
politan life more in detail. As might very naturally be 
supposed, Caroline took sides with her brother in his dif- 
ferences with Murat ; and things went so far that at least 
a separation seemed likely to take place. It would- proba- 
bly have been effected at a later period, had not a melan- 
choly fate deprived her beforehand of her husband. But 
they seemed to have been after all sincerely attached to oue 
another, and even as late as the Battle of Dresden, we find 
Caroline addressing to her husband the' following letter :— 

" Sire, — Your letters respecting the brilliant Battle of 
Dresden, in which you took so glorious a part, reached me 
just as I was going to take the little voyage I had projected 
in the gulf; and it was amid the thunder of the cannon 
which you directed to be fired, that I went on board, re 
joicing in your success, and still more rejoicing at finding 
myself free from all uneasiness respecting 3"our health. 

" According to your instructions, I havr. ordered Te Deum 
to be performed. I send your Majesty the proceedings of 



THE LOSS OF HER CROWX. 481 

administration, together with the ordinary statements and 
reports, and some particular demands, on which it will be 
for 3'ou to determine. I annex to these, three reports of the 
intendant-general. * * The prince-royal set off day be- 
fore yesterday to make the circuit of the bay, on the same 
Tcssel — he returned quite enchanted. The princesses are 
to go to-morrow, with Lucien for their beau. 

" I don't know whether you receive my letters, but I 
write to you very often. Everything is perfectly calm and 
tranquil, and I hope you will be so too. I have ordered 
Camponelle to send yo-u everything you may stand in need 
of, and told him to get some woolen hosiery, which will be 
very comfortable to you in traveling. I send a box of 
liquorice for the Emperor. Present my respects to him. 
Adieu, my friend ; take care of yourself, I beg you, and 

think of us. I embrace you as I love you. 

" Caroline." 

XIII. 

In the month of March, 1815, when the reverses of Napo- 
leon's arms and the advance of the Austrian army into the 
kingdom of Naples, drove Murat from his kingdom, Caro- 
line displayed great decision of character ; and her conduct 
at the trying period, when she lost her crown and went into 
exile, has elicited the praises of all contemporaneous histo- 
i-ians. Naples was filled with alarm. Dressing herself in 
the uniform of the National Guards, and mounting a spirited 
horse, she reviewed the troops and addressed them in a style 
which would have done no discredit to a conqueror on the 
eve of battle. She was on horseback more than six hours 
during the last day of her reign, and it was only at the 
final moment, when all hope was gone, that she gave herself 
up to the English Naval Commander, and went on board his 
vessel with her children. She had been assured a free pas- 



482 CAROLINA-MARIA-AXXOXCIADA. 

sage to France with her suite by the English Commodore ; 
but this pledge was also broken — of course, under the 
specious pretext that the commander had exceeded his 
instructions. Disgusted at the outrage, she abandoned the 
protection of the English flag, and threw herself into the 
hands of the Austrians. 

Assuming the title of Countess of Lipano, she took up her 
residence in the dominions of the Austrian Emperor, with an 
engagement not to return to France or Italy without express 
permission. She obtained leave in 1830, when her venera- 
ble mother was supposed to be near her death, to proceed 
to Rome on a visit for a month. When the time was up, 
she returned again to her Austrian residence, but soon 
took up her abode in Florence, where she died in 1839. 

A single word on the character of Caroline. She was 
perhaps more imperious and petulant than any of her sisters, 
not even excepting Pauline. When the Imperial Crown 
was put upon the head of Napoleon, his sisters all wanted 
to be made queens. Joseph, being the first of the brothers 
raised to a throne, his sisters found it very hard to address 
his wife as " Your Majesty," and they complained to him, 
that he had treated the wife of his brother with more favor 
than he had even his own sisters. " To hear your com- 
plaints," said Napoleon, " one would suppose that I had 
robbed you of your succession to the late king, your father." 
But Caroline was an estimable woman, a good wife, a kind 
mother, a generous sister, and a noble queen. 




EUaENE— VICEROY OF EaYPT. 



EUGENE BEAUHARNAIS. 

Bom in Brittany, September 3, 1780-— Died at Munich, January 21, 1824. 

I. 

Among the sliining names in the galaxy of the Beauhar- 
nais family, stands conspicuous the name of Eugene, son of 
Yiscount Alexander and Josephine Beauharnais. In all the 
vicissitudes of his eventful life, as a son and brother, dutiful 
and affectionate ; as an adopted son and recipient of favor, 
grateful and true ; as a soldier, valiant and skillful ; as a 
husband and father, fulfilling every duty in the social 
relations ; as a commander and viceroy, remarkable for 
bravery, honor, integrity, humanity, and love of order and 
justice ; as a friend, faithful and sincere ; in short, as a man 
in every vocation of life to which he was called, acting well 
his part, and leaving behind him an unblemished reputation. 
We may add, that under a simple exterior, ne concealed a 
noble character and great talents. Wise in council, un- 
daunted in the field, he was moderate in the exercise of 
power ; and he never appeared greater than in the midst ot 
the reverses of fortune, and the peculiar trials he was called 
upon to endure. Such was Eugene Beauharnais. 

Eugene was born in the Province of Brittany, [September 
3, 1780], and received his early education at the College of 
St. Germain-en-Laye. Being destined for a military life, afc 
the age of twelve, he is said to ha\e been with Hoche, in La 
Vender ; and he was with his father on the Rhine — his 
mother and sister being at Martinique. During the Reign 
of Terror, the father of Eugene perished on the scaffold, and 
his mother was thrown into prison. On her release, after 
the fall of Robespierre, Eugene wa% bound an apprentice to 



484 EUGEXE BEAUHAKNAIS. 

a joiner, which trade he actually learned, while his sister 
was placed with a raantua-maker. In the life of Josephine, 
we have related that it was through Eugene she became 
acquainted with Napoleon. It was on the occasion of his 
calling on General Bonaparte, to request that his father^s 
sword might be restored to him. 

II. 

On the marriage of his mother with Napoleon, Eugene was 
placed in the staff of the General ; but he continued to live 
with his mother in Paris, until the summer of 1797, when 
he joined the army of Italy, at Milan. On his arrival, 
he entered the service, as aid-de-camp to Napoleon, who 
felt for him an affection, which was justified by his good 
qualities. The following year, he accompanied the Com- 
mander-in-Chief on the expedition to Egypt. Having par- 
ticipated in the first actions of the French army in Egypt, 
on the entrance into Cairo, he was sent by Napoleon to 
compliment Murad Bey's wife. She received him on her 
grand divan, in the harem, to which he was admitted by 
special exception, as the Envoy of " Sultan Keebir," the 
name given by the Arabs to Napoleon. All the women 
wished to see the handsome young Frenchman. The wife 
of Murad Bey, although not less than fifty, was still dis- 
tinguished for beauty and grace. When coffee and sherbet 
had been served, she took from her, finger a valuable ring 
and presented it to the young officer, and sent severa 
requests to the General, who always protected her. 

Eugene co-operated with Croissier, a fellow aid-de-camp 
in the sanguinary affairs at Cairo and Jaffa. He endeavored 
to save the lives of the prisoners taken at Jaffa, but his 
humane efforts were in vain. We may well suppose that 
Eugene was not sorry to leave the scenes of suffering and 



485 

horror which he was compelled to witness in Egypt and 
Syria, and to return to France with Napoleon. He arrived 
in Paris, in October, 1799. 

It was owing to Eugene and Hortense that a reconcilia- 
tion was brought about between Napoleon and Josephine, 
)n the return from Egypt. 

Eugene was with his mother, in Paris, on the revolution 
of the 18th Brumaire. On the establishment of the Court 
of the First Consul at the Tuilleries, he formed one of its 
brilliant circle. He is described by the Duchess D'Abrantes 
as a most charming and amiable young man, attractive and 
elegant in his person. Frankness and hilarity pervaded all 
his actions ; he was good-natured, gracious, polite without 
being obsequious, and a mimic without being impertinent — 
a rare talent. He performed well in comedy, sang a good 
song, and danced, as his father (who was called the beau 
danciur in his time,) had done before him." 

III. 

The First Consul appointed Eugene, chef d! escadron in 
the Consular Guards, in which capacity he accompanied the 
army to Italy, and distinguished himself at the battle of 
Marengo. In 1804, he was made colonel-general of tlie 
Consular Guards. He was created a Prince of the Empire, 
and also Chancellor of State. In June, 1805, at the coro- 
nation at Milan, Eugene was made Viceroy of the Kingdom 
of Italy, which comprised Lombardy and the northern 
Papal provinces, and he immediately entered upon the 
duties of his office, his residence being fixed at Milan. 

Early in 1806, he was declared the adopted son of Napo- 
leon ; and by the influence of the Emperor, he solicited and 
obtained the hand of Augusta- Amelia, the eldest daughter 
of the King of Bavaria. They were married at Munich, 



4:8b EUGENE BEAUHARNAIS. 

January 13, 1806. In the same year, the Yenetiau States 
being annexed to the Italian Kingdom, Eugene was created 
Prince of Venice, and declared successor to the Iron Crown 
of Lombardy. 

As Viceroy of Italy, Eugene was popular with the citizens 
as well as the army. His frank bearing and affable temper 
with his humane disposition, made him many friends. He 
displayed activity and system in the details of his ad 
ministration ; his vice-regal court was splendid, but he was 
frugal in his own expenditures. He embellished Milan with 
public walks and buildings, and encouraged manufactures 
and the arts. His gallery of paintings was one of the most 
magnificent in Europe. Entirely devoted to the Emperor, 
he implicitly obeyed and enforced his decrees, though he oc- 
casionally endeavored to obtain some mitigation of them, 
when harsh or oppressive. 

In the war of 1809, between France and Austria, Eugene 
took the command of the French and Italian army,, on the 
frontiers towards Carinthia ; but he was obliged to retire 
before the superior forces of the Archduke John ; and after 
sustaining considerable loss, he withdrew to the Adige, 
where he received reinforcements. Upon the defeat of the 
main Austrian army in Germany, the Archduke marched 
back towards Vienna, and was closely followed by Eugene. 
A battle took place near the river Piave, in_^which the Aus-' 
trians were defeated. Eugene followed them on their 
retreat, and made his junction with Napoleon's grand army 
at Ebersdorf, near Vienna. He was thence sent into Hun 
gary. On the 14th June, he defeated tlie Archduke John 
at Raab, and subsquently distinguished himself at the battle 
of Wagram, which put an end to the war. 



CLOSE OF Eugene's career. 487 

IV. 

He visited Paris, to be present at the declaration of the 
divorce of his mother. On that painful occasion he made a 
speech to the Senate, in which he dwelt on the duty of obe- 
dience to the Emperor, to whom he and his family acknow- 
edged themselves under great obligations. 

On the 3d of March, 1810, Napoleon appointed Eugene 
successor of the Prince Primate of the Confederation of the 
Rhine, who had been created Grand Duke of Frankfort. 
In 1812, he joined Napoleon in the Russian campaign, with 
part of the Italian army — taking command of the fourtlj 
corps of the grand army ; and was engaged at the battles 
of Mohilow and Moscow. In the disastrous retreat he suc- 
ceeded in keeping together the remnants of his own troops, 
and maintaining some order and discipline. After Napoleon 
and Murat had left the army, he took the chief command. 
At Majdebourg, he collected the relics of the various corps ; 
and at the battle of Lutzen, May 2, 1813, he commanded 
the left wing of the new army which Napoleon had raised. 
Soon after, he returned to Milan, to raise new conscriptions 
to replace the soldiers who had perished in Russia, and to 
provide for the defence of Italy against Austria. Three 
levies, of 15,000 conscripts each, were ordered in the course 
of the year, in the Kingdom of Italy alone ; but the people 
were tired of war, and it was difficult to collect the required 
numbers for the army. The news of the Battle of Leipsic 
added to the general discontent, and in October, 1813, 
Eugene fell back on the Adige, the Austrians having entered 
Italy. In March, 1814, being attacked by the Austrians on 
one side, and the Neapolitans on the other, Eugene with- 
drew to the Mincio, and removed his family and property 
from Milan to the fortress of Mantua. On the 16th of April, 
Eugene and Marshal Belligarde, the Austrian commander, 



488 EUGENE BEAUHARNAIS. 

signed a convention, by whicli liostilities were suspended, 
the French troops sent away from Italy, and Venice 
and other fortified places delivered up to Austria. The 
Kingdom of Italy had ceased to exist, and Napoleon had 
abdicated. 



An unsuccessful attempt was made by the friends of 
Eugene to obtain his nomination as King of Lombardy. He 
gave up Mantua to the ^.ustrians, and fled with his family 
to Munich, where he was kindly received by his father-in- 
law, the King of Bavaria. He had been at his father-in- 
law's court but a few days, before he was summoned to 
France, by the death of his mother. He was courteously 
received by Louis XYIII., who addressed him, not as 
General, but Prince. By the Treaty of Paris, a suitable 
establishment was to be assigned him, and he repaired to 
"Vienna, to solicit the favor of the Congress of Allied Sove- 
reigns. While there, the Emperor Alexander honored him 
with special marks of regard, and proposed that, he should 
be made the Sovereign of a small Principality. But the 
return of Napoleon from Elba, changed the views of the 
Emperor of Russia. It was suspected that Eugene had 
informed Napoleon of the supposed intention of the Allied 
Sovereigns to transfer him to St. Helena ; and the suspicion 
was strengthened, when a decree of Napoleon enrolled 
Eugene among the new Peers of France. The King of 
Bavaria prevented the arrest of Eugene by the Austriar 
government, as he had gone to Vienna under his protection 
Being no longer an object of favor with the Allied Sove- 
reigns, Eugene retired to Munich, assuming the titles of 
Duke of Leuchtenberg, and Prince of Eichstadt. The 
Bavarian Principality of Eichstadt was bestowed upon Lira, 



DEATH OF EUGENE. 489 

and his posterity declared capable of inheriting, in case of 
the failure of the Bavarian line. 

With the consent of the Pope, Eugene retained some 
estates in the northern part of the Papal Dominions. The 
restored Bourbon King of Naples also agreed to pay him 
five millions of Francs. These grants were intended as a 
compensation for the loss of the yearly income of a million 
Df fiancs, assigned to him by Napoleon, from the National 
Domain of Italy. 

In 1817, on the marriage of the Emperor of Austria with 
a Bavarian Princess, Eugene, who then resided with his 
father-in-law, considered himself disrespectfully treated. 
He and his family, therefore, took up their abode, for a time, 
with his sister Hortense, near the Lake of Constance, in 
Switzerland. He afterwards returned to Munich, where he 
died, of an organic disorder of the brain, on the 21st of 
January, 1824, in the forty -fourth year of his age. 

Eugene left six children — two sons and four daughters. 
His eldest daughter, Josephine Maximiliene, was married 
in 1823, to Oscar Bernadotte, now King of Sweden ; the 
second, Hortense Eugenia, was the wife of the Prince of 
Hohenzollern Heichingen ; the third daughter, Amelia 
Eugenia, in 1829, to the late Don Pedro, Emperor of Brazil ; 
the fourth married a Count of Wurtemberg. His eldest 
son, the Duke Augustus, married, in 1835, Donna Maria, 
Queen of Portugal, but died soon after the nuptials ; the 
youngest son, Maximilian, now Duke of Leuchtenberg, 
married in 1839, the Grand-Duchess Maria, daughter of 
Nicholas, Emperor of Russia. 



490 



NAPOLEON FRANCIS JOSEPH— DUKE OF 

EEICHSTADT. 

Born in Paris, March 20, 1811— Died at Vienna, July 22, 1832. 

I. 

When Napoleon first abdicated at Foiitainbleau, [AprH 
1814], the King of Rome was taken by his mother to Vienna, 
at the wish of Francis of Austria, who for the first time 
then saw the child. In 1815, after his father's second abdi- 
cation, (which the Allied Sovereigns would not accept in 
favor of his son), young Napoleon was placed under the 
guardianship of his grandfather, the Emperor of Austria, 
by whose directions he was educated as a German Prince. 
His title of " King of Rome " was changed to that of Duke 
of Reichstadt. 

He early evinced a taste for a military life, and was edu- 
cated in that profession. In the prosecution of this design, 
and to divert his mind from another model, the example of 
Prince Eugene, of Savoy, was proposed for, his imitation. 
To cut off all intercourse with the agitators and adventurers 
of France, he was carefully secluded from communication 
with any persons except his attendants or instructors. This 
precaution, although it was accompanied with the amplest 
indulgences in all other respects, was feli as an irksome 
restraint, to which a recollection of earlier years gave a 
keener edge ; and ideas of his father's fame and grandeur, 
perpetually haunted his imagination. To the study of the 
German language he at first evinced a decided repugnance, 
which, however, he afterwards overcome ; but he had little 
inclination for literature. He had an early and radical dis- 
like for fiction. 

During his education at Schonbrunn, his tutors were 



491 

much perplexed by his extreme curiosity with regard to his 
father, and the circumstances and causes of his fall. It was 
evident that the restless spirit of Napoleon possessed the 
mind of his son. His instructors were directed by the Aus- 
trian Court to acquaint him with the whole truth, as a means 
of allaying the alarming and feverish anxiety of his mind. 
This plan had the desired effect, but he was thoughtful and 
reserved upon the subject of his life and fortunes. 

When the news of his father's death was communicated 
to him by M. Foresti, he was deeply affected. He was 
taught the learned languages ; but to these studies he paid 
little attention — Cesar's Commentaries being the only 
Latin book he seriously read. He devoted himself with 
ardor to military studies. He also left some proofs of 
literary industry. Among the papers of the Prince, in 
Italian, is a sketch of the life of Prince Schwartzenberg. 
From his fifteenth year, he was permitted to read any book 
on the history of Napoleon and the French Revolution. At 
length he was initiated into the policy of the Austrian Cabi- 
net. Accordingly, Prince Metternich, under the form of 
lectures on history, gave him the whole theory of imperial 
government. These lectures produced the effect desired, 
and he was thoroughly imbued with the doctrines of abso- 
lutism. • 

The revolution of 1830, produced a startling effect on the 
young Prince. He was not informed of the pertinacity with 
which his uncle Joseph urged his claims to the Crown of 
France. Least of all could the Prince have been aware of 
the effect which would have been produced at that time in 
France, had he suddenly made his appearance there, while 
the people were hesitating about accepting Lafayette's nomi- 
nation of the Duke of Orleans. 



492 NAPOLEON FRANCIS JOSEPH. 

II. 

His first appearance in society was on the 25th of Janu' 
ary, 1831, at a grand party, at the house of the British Am^ 
bassador, Lord Cowley, when he became acquainted with 
Marmont, one of his father's marshals. In June, 1831, he was 
appointed Lieutenant- Colonel, and assumed the command 
of a battalion of Hungarian infantry. He was beginning 
to exhibit symptoms of consumption, and his exertions in the 
discharge of his new duties hastened the progress of the 
disease. Much against his own wishes, he was taken from 
his favorite military pursuits ; but his impetuous disposition 
hastened his dissolution. The first return of vigor excited 
the Prince to renewed exertion ; he commenced hunting in 
all weathers, which, together with exposure in visiting a 
neighboring military station, soon occasioned a recurrence 
of the most dangerous symptoms, and, after a short period 
of painful suffering, he died at the Palace of Schonbrunn, 
on the 22d of July, 1832, in the 22d year of his age. 

Under the guidance of Metternich, the grandson of Fran- 
cis became an Austrian subject, instead of a, French Prince, 
and forbade his ever cherishing any aspirations to a throne. 

The intelligence of his death was received with profound 
sensation in France, but at that time the people had quietly 
acquiesced in the elevation of the House of Orleans ; and 
the event which caused so much sorrow in^the hearts of the 
survivors of the Bonaparte family soon ceased to excite 
attention or feeling elsewhere. In the other nations of 
Europe there was but little regret that an individual, how- 
ever blameless in private life, who from circumstances might 
have disturbed the general peace, had been providentially 
removed by death, before the opportunity had offered for 
awakening in his bosom the ambition which distinguished 
his 'father. 



BOOK IX. 



JOACHIM MURAT, 

KING OF NAPLES, 

Born at Bastide-Frontoniere, France, March 25, 1767; 
Died at Pizzo, (Italy), Oct. 13, 1815. 




MUEAT— KING OF NAPLES. 



v*«^'jaj;,i»t«M.naKdBe?«nKHH&^&a.^i<ei;K!.'^^^ ..i»e&''iuu 



ft 



JOACHIM MURAT. 



This illustrious soldier, who was the Chevalier Bay- 
ard of Napoleon's Empire, would have deserved in this 
work something more than a passing notice, even had he 
not by marriage with one of Napoleon's sisters, become 
allied with the Bonaparte family. He was born [March 
25th, 1T6T,] two years before Napoleon, in a small village 
near Cahors, in France. He was the son of the keeper of 
the little inn of the village — an honest and industrious man. 
He had been a steward in the Talleyrand family, and his 
son Joachim was, through their favor, admitted to the 
College of Cahors, with the view of being prepared for the 
Church. But he made little progress in his studies, and was 
incorrigible and extravagant. All his tastes were military, 
and the tap of a drum made him ungovernable. But he 
managed to remain at Cahors, until his course — such as it 
was — was complete, when he was sent to the College of 
Tolouse. He was, however, soon expelled, when he enlisted 
in a regiment of Chasseurs, and soon after the Great Revo- 
lution opened a new age to France and Europe. 

II. 

Young Murat, having obtained a place in the Constitu- 
tional Guard of Louis XYI., he joined his corps, where his 
fine form, handsome face, and martial bearing, attracted 
universal attention. He went through the Reign of Terror 
with the deepest enthusiasm, and took no care whatever to 



496 JOACHIM MURAT. 

conceal his earnest sympathy with the cause of republicanism. 
He passed from grade to grade, till the stable-boy became a 
Major in the Army of the Republic. Many interesting inci- 
dents are related of him at this period, but we must pass 
them all by, without stopping even to glance at those pas- 
sages of his life in which his character shines out with all 
its brilliancy. When Napoleon was confided by the govern- 
ment with the quelling of the Sections, he intrusted to 
Murat a most important commission ; and it was chiefly 
through his efficiency and dispatch that the park of artillery, 
which decided the fortunes of the day, was seized and 
brought to Paris only a few moments before a superior de- 
tachment of the National Guard arrived for the same pur- 
pose. Having at that trying crisis displayed, not only the 
highest daring, but the most marked military tact and 
ability. Napoleon chose him as one of his staff, in the army 

of Italy. 

III. 

He achieved such distinction during the first campaign 
of Napoleon, in every trial of his bravery and skill, that he 
laid the foundation of the reputation he subsequently ac- 
quired, of being the ablest of all the French Marshals. 
After the conquest of Italy, he was chosen by the Com- 
mander-in-Chief, to bear the captured standards to the Di- 
rectory of Paris, by whom he was promoted to the rank' of 
General of Brigade. He occupied one of the first position 
in the army of Egypt, and during that trying expedition 
won still more brilliant laurels. He was the only officer of 
the French army who could manage cavalry with success in 
an enoounter with the Mamelukes. At the battle of Aboukir, 
he was intrusted by Napoleon with the hazardous task of 
breaking the centre of the Turkish lines. Before the onset 
of his squadrons, column after column of the Turks was 



497 

driven into the sea. As tlie smoke of battle rolled off from 
a corps of the Turkish army, he saw the commander, 
Mustapha Pacha, surrounded by two hundred Janizaries, 
all of them fighting with the energy of despair. The Pacha 
drew a pistol, and fired at his head. The ball grazed Murat's 
( heek, but the next moment the Frenchman's sword glittered 
i;i the air, and by a trenchant stroke severed two of the 
Pacha's fingers, and brought his Arabian steed to the 
ground. He seized the uplifted hand of the Turk, and sent 
him a prisoner to Napoleon. 

Murat was one of those gallant spirits to whom Napoleon 
made known his intention of returning to France, and. whom 
he resolved to retain near his person. They held many inti- 
mate conversations during the long voyage, and its tedious 
hours were relieved by the communion of their kindred 
minds. Before Napoleon decided on the seizure of the 
Government of France, he had calculated well his forces ; 
and to Murat was intrusted the most "important part, after 
his own, in the decisive days of the 18th and 19th Brumaire. 
When those cries of " Death to Bonaparte" were ringing 
through the hall of the Council of Five Hundred, and Napo- 
poleon himself had just escaped from the dagger lifted 
against him, it was Murat who marched into the assembly, 
and ended their sessions. 

Although Moreau, who was then the second military man 
in France, had sued for the hand of Caroline, Napoleon's 
youngest sister, yet either owing to the superior fascination 
of Murat's person or manner, or to the well-known affection 
entertained for him by the First Consul, she became his 
wife, and it was now more than ever an object of desire, as 
well as of interest on the part of Napoleon, to promote his 
fortunes. These were periods when marriages were con- 
tracted with as little premeditation as battles were fought ; 



498 JOACH.IM MURAT. 

and tlie convulsions of Europe allowed but brief honey- 
moons to its soldiers. A few days after the marriage, the 
army of Italy was again in motion — they were soon defiling 
along the glaciers of the Great St. Bernard — they descended 
into the garden of Italy, and unfurled their standards at 
Marengo. If this were a book in which we had scope for 
the description of the movements of armies, we should have 
to glance at some of the fields where Murat led the cavalry 
of France. At Marengo, Napoleon gpasped his hand, when 
he returned from his last charge, and sent him to Paris to 
bear the standards of the enemy, when the Consular Govern- 
ment presented him with a magnificent sword, heavily 
mounted with diamonds. 

lY. 

We cannot go with him to Austerlitz or Jena, to Eulau 
or Friedland ; nor contemplate his career in Spain, where 
he placed the crown of the Peninsula in the hands of Napo- 
leon — we cannot follow him in his struggles with the Be- 
douins of the Desert ; nor under the shadows of the Sacred 
Mountains ; his charges against the Cossacks on the frozen 
steppes of Russia we cannot record. We must forego the 
pleasure of tracing the career of this great soldier. But we 
need not record his achievements — they are already written 
in the history of Europe. Of the hundred victories that 
stand emblazoned on the Column of the Place Yendome 
there are few battles in which the Inajestic form of Murat on 
his battle-steed, charging the enemy at the head of his ca 
valry is not traced. Time and again, the fortunes of Europe 
hung on his sword. More than six feet high, finely propor- 
tioned, eminently handsome, with the most brilliant expres- 
sion of countenance, hair which waved in natural curls all 
over his head, fond of riding, and acquainted with horses 



HIS MILITARY GENIUS AND FAME. 499 

from his boyhood, riding none but the best horses in Europe 
— extravagant and superb in dress, fond of adornment, and 
captivated with splendor — he was altogether the most bril- 
liant soldier on foot or on horseback that has been seen in 
modern Europe. Hundreds of thousands of men that were 
with himi on his battle-fields have seen his gorgeous plumes 
wreathed in the smoke of battle ; and so terrible did his 
name at last become, that the bravest soldiers he fought 
against, recoiled when they knew that he was on the field. 
Probably no man has lived in recent times who has per- 
formed so many deeds of daring — the very relation of which 
makes the blood run cold. From his birth to his death, he 
seems never to have known the passion of fear. Often 
during the march to Russia, and the retreat from Moscow, he. 
rode unharmed through squadrons of the Cossacks sweeping 
around him — terrified and half charmed at the magnificence 
and daring of his adventure. He bore a charmed life. But 
his fate at last was sad enough to atone for the splendor of 
his career. 

Napoleon never admired the military genius of any other 
man as he did Murat's, and he showered upon him all the 
magnificence of his Empire. He may have been more 
tenderly attached to Eugene — sometimes he may have felt a 
warmer sentiment for Duroc — he caught Dessaix as he fell 
on the field of Marengo, and he held Lannes to his bosom 
when he died ; but no man ever lifted his arm for Napoleon 
whose blow when it came shattered the forces of the enemy 
o dreadfully as Murat's. Side by side with him, he traveled 
rom the bombardment of Toulon till the fall of his Empire. 
From a General of Brigade he became General of Division, 
Commander-in-Chief of the National Guard, Marshal of 
France, and Grand Admiral, and Prince of the Empire, 
Gj and Eagle of the Legion of Honor, Grand Duke of Berg 



500 JOACHIM MURAT. 

and of Cleves, until the last lionor which the French Em- 
pire could crown him with, was given — the diadem of 
Naples. We shall bestow upon him in this latter capacity, 
the few remarks we find room for in this volume. 

An Imperial Decree of Napoleon dated, " Bayonne, July 
15, 1808," placed Murat upon the throne of Naples. 

Caletta, who held high civic and military offices under 
his government, who was long his Minister of War, and 
Councillor of State, has left in his posthumous work so 
many valuable and philosophical records that we could find 
no safer guide to follow, in tracing the policy and political 
fortunes of the new King. His work has never been pub- 
lished in English. To his history in Italian we are chiefly 
indebted, for what remains to say of Murat. 

V. 

When the new King was proclaimed, the Neapolitans 
were full of inquiries about his birth, his life, and achieve- 
ments ; but the fame of his valor overshadowed everything 
else : hence those who were not attracted by military glory^ 
feared to encounter in their sovereign inflexibility, hard- 
heartedness, fondness for war, and no capacity for govern- 
ment. But as the news came of his approach, festivals and 
rejoicings were seen throughout the kingdom. 

On the 6th of September, [1808], he mg.de his public em try 
into Naples, on horseback, superbly attired, but not with the 
royal mantle or any other sign of sovereignty — he was 
dressed only in the uniform he wore in battle. He was 
received at the gate by the homage of the magistrates, the 
keys of the city, and every sign of allegiance. Magnificent 
in his person, cheerful and even gay with those around him, 
powerful, fortunate, and a hero, he had everything to inflame 
the enthusiasm of a people. In the church of Spirito Santo 



ARRIVAL OF MURAT AXD HIS WIFE AT NAPLES. 501 

he received from Cardinal Fiaro the sacred benediction, 
with every sign of veneration, except that he stood with his 
feet on the throne. When he entered the Eoyal Palace, 
he went through the etiquette of the Court with the grace 
of a king who had been born in the midst of grandeur. 
The city was brilliantly illuminated, and festivities and 
gayety were prolonged throughout the night. 

The first acts of his reign were a proclamation of pardon 
for all those who had deserted the army, and a Convocation 
of Counsellors of citizens in the provinces, the curtailment 
of the expenditures of the army, particularly the French 
troops, garrisoned in the kingdom — all of which gave uni- 
versal gratification. The festivities which celebrated his 
arrival, were hardly over, when the people abandoned them- 
selves to other fetes to demonstrate their joy on the arrival 
of the Queen. Caroline entered Naples the 25th of Sep- 
tember, and although the public ceremonies were less im- 
posing than those which greeted the coming of the King, 
they were marked by a greater degree of elegance and 
splendor, as might be expected, to distinguish the reception 
of a young and beautiful sovereign, who was the sister of 
the most powerful monarch that had ever held a sceptre in 
Europe. Something more than this gave heartiness and 
enthusiasm to the occasion ; for in the same carriage with 
the queen, were four very young and beautiful children to 
whom the Neapolitans looked forward for the majesty and 
the glory of the kingdom. 

VI. 

But the splendors of the palace, and the gayeties of the 
court, were not so strong for Murat as the allurements of 
the camp. In the midst of these festivities he was preparing 
the expedition to Capri. That island was then held by the 



502 JOACHIM MURAT. 

English, and had become, as Colletta says, a forge of con- 
spirators and brigands under the command of Col. Lowe, 
who was afterwards to be the jailer of Napoleon. But 
Murat was determined to wrest it from their grasp, and he 
did it with complete success. This achievement, which 
was one of the most brilliant ever performed in the history 
of Europe, was achieved by 200 men, and it made the name 
of Murat ring through the kingdom of the two Sicilies. 

This brilliant act was a hazardous pledge to hold out to 
eight millions of subjects ; but Murat was the man to redeem 
it. The eclat had scarcely resounded to the borders of his 
kingdom, before he undertook a still more difficult enter- 
prise — that of civil change and amelioration. Exiles were 
recalled, state criminals were liberated, spies were dismissed, 
and all the barbarities of the police abandoned ; and Murat 
displayed a great deal of discretion in the means he chose 
to remove these obstacles which old habits and customs 
opposed, to the working of the new Napoleon Code. The 
registry of deaths, births and marriages, was confided to 
civil magistrates, and matrimony could not be celebrated in 
the church as a sacrament till it had been ratified before a 
magistrate as a social contract. The registry of mortgages 
on real estate, was opened for public inspection. This vast 
innovation met with opposition, for it tore away one of the 
last props of the feudal system. But its~ results were bene- 
ficent : Estates were cleared up and credit established ; and 
afterwards there were witnessed no deceptive bankruptcies, 
few estates squandered ; and frauds upon property were far 
less frequent than in former times. The magistracy of the 
city of Naples was regulated by wise and enlightened ordi- 
nances. A corps of engineers, of bridges and roads, was 
named ; and this part of the administration was made an 
instrument of civilization and wealth, although it had been 



I 



murat's institutions and public works, 503 

neglected since the time of Charles Bourbon, in the early- 
portion of the last century." Colletta, who was himself the 
Chief of the Corps of Engineers, under Murat, gives a long, 
minute and interesting account of the progress they made 
in public works during the reign. One of the chief charac- 
teristics of the Napoleonic policy has been from the begin- 
ning, the development of the resources of nations and the 
extension of public works. 

Joseph had established in Aversa an institution for the 
education of the daughters of nobles. Murat transferred it 
to Naples ; and as its management was confided to the queen, 
it was called " Casa Carolina." The nobility of the young 
ladies was not sought in titles and the recollections of an- 
cestors, but in the respectability of their position ; hence, 
the institution embraced names the most illustrious for an- 
cient lineage, and most distinguished in the achievements of 
modern times. This Seminary flourished for several years ; 
and although its founders were overwhelmed by the counter 
revolution of 1815, it was still preserved with its original 
regulations, and is at this day a powerful instrument in im- 
proving the manners of families, in educating virtuous 
wives, and in providing affectionate mothers for the charities 
of home. 

VII. 

On the 25th of March, the birth-day of Murat, and of his 
Queen, he presented to the new regiments he had organized^ 
and to the National Guards, their colors. He had called 
from the Provinces the choicest of the legions, and raised a 
magnificent throne in the Grand Piazza of Naples, and made 
all his preparations for a splendid fete, with his Oriental 
genius for display. The National Guard, which had been 
organized tliroughout the kingdom, had been summoned to 
witness the grand celebration, and wherever they passed 



504 JOACHIM MURAT. 

cities and villages, on their march to the Capital, thev were 
provided with the means of enjoyment and luxury. When 
their battalions reached Naples, they were not lodged in the 
rude quarters of soldiers-, but commodiously in the palaces 
of the nobles and the rich, and of the king and his ministers. 
Although a violent rain was falling, it did not interrupt the 
ceremonies. Cardinal Fiaro, at the signal of the artillery 
from the forts and the ships, with a clear and harmonious 
voice blessed the standards, and as they hung drooping to 
their staffs they were carried to the king, who planted them 
around his throne ; and as company after company ap- 
proached to receive them, and swear allegiance, the rain 
ceased, the clouds broke away, and a full tide of sunshine 
flooded the martial scene. The multitude regarded it as an 
augury of a happy future. The fete went on — banquets, 
plays, theatrical spectacles, were given to the soldiers ; and, 
to commemorate the occasion, a silver medal was struck, 
which bore on one side the image of the King, and on the 
other, fourteen banners, the number of the Provinces, with 
the motto, " Domestic Security" — and around it, " To the 
Legions, 26th of March, 1809." This scene doubtless had 
no little influence in consolidating the reign of Murat ; and 
when the troops returned to the Provinces, where they were 
stationed, every village and hamlet flashed with illumina- 
tions. 

VIII. 

Soon after, from the port of Messina, two expeditions 
started, one of which landed in the Gulf of Gioja, four 
hundred brigands and soldiers ; and the other, on the coast, 
between Eeggio and Palma. The brigands dispersed 
through the forests, killing, robbing and destroying, wherever 
they came within contact of civilization. In the meantime, 
the innumerable ships of England were scouring the coast of 



1 



EXGLAXD LANDS BRTGAXDS ON THE NEAPOLITAN COAST. 505 

Italy, and landing brigands and desperadoes whereyer it 
was judged they could inflict the most damage and distress 
upon the population. It is humiliating to human nature to 
contemplate the conduct of the British Ministry at this 
period, for thousands of innocent persons were sacrificed to 
the brutality of these desperate gangs of robbers, with 
whom the highest personages in the British navy were not 
ashamed to consort. It was regarded as legitimate revenge 
upon Napoleon himself to receive these villains when they 
fled from the pursuit of authority — protect them, load them 
with money, and send them ashore, to scour, ravage, violate, 
and lay waste the devoted homes and plains of Italy. 

IX. 

Murat understood thoroughly the policy of the English ; and 
he determined to drive them from the Peninsula. With the 
energy and heroism of his spirit he at once began the work. 
He gave dispatch to orders, provisions, and counsels. He 
gathered his soldiers ; visited the camps, the barracks and 
coasts ; organized the militia as a guard of the city. Tran- 
quillity reigned throughout the kingdom among his own 
subjects. But Naples turned pale with terror. Queen 
Caroline displayed the greatest confidence in the security 
of the Capital, by appearing every morning and evening in 
the public parks and promenades, and at the theatres with 
her children. Her example was imitated by all the upper 
classes, and Naples soon bore the appearance of luxury and 
repose. The brigands, landed from the English vessels, 
were obliged to get their food by incursions on farm-houses 
and village's. In a hostile soil they could calculate on 
neither safety nor life, but in victory. But their object was 
neither bread nor peace. Being distributed throughout the 
kingdom along the line of the Appeuines, they descended 



506 JOACHIM MURAT. 

on the same night into a hundred villages, and the kingdom 
of Naples must have seemed to the eye of Heaven to have 
been lit by a general conflagration. Rapine, violence, death 
and fire, attended their steps. The old, the sick, and the 
young, were either massacred or burned. Hundreds of those 
whose misfortunes or condition should have rendered them 
objects of sacred regard, were subjected to the most igno- 
minious and disgraceful deaths. A thousand instances are 
recorded, many of them authenticated by the impartial and 
honest pen of Colletta, in which traits of human nature are 
developed in such light as are seldom cast even by the pen 
of romance. 

X. 

England had furnished ships to land the brigands — and 
she rewarded them munificently for their barbarity — not , 
unlike the policy she pursued in the War of our Revolution, 
and in that of 1812, when she summoned to her aid, by the 
the agency of whiskey, blankets and gold, the terrible 
machinery of the tomahawk and scalping-knife, for the 
mothers and infants of our own people. The Declaration 
of American Independence, long before these outrages were 
perpetrated, found in our own history, justification enough 
for that memorable accusation against the King of Eng- 
land — " He has brought on the inhabitants of our frontiers, 
the merciless Indian savages, whose known rule of warfare 
is the undistinguished destruction of all ages, sexes and con- 
ditions." But the ostensible instruments in her hands 
during this crusade of blood in the Italian Peninsula, were 
the Duke d'Ascoli, the Prince of Canosa, the Marquis of 
Sciava, and other distinguished courtiers of the King of 
Sicily. There were, in the court of that king, even priests 
and bishops who pronounced their benedictions upon the 
heads of the most notorious villains of Europe, and absolved 



I 



A NAYAL BATTLE IN THE GULF OF NAPLES. 507 

fchem from all the sins they ever had committed or ever 
would, and promised them a free passport to the gates of 
Paradise, if they would only return to the horrid work of 
the butchery of helpless men, the violation of innocent 
maidens, and the slaughter of mothers, with their unborn 
children. Many of the most distinguished officers of the 
British army and navy witnessed and justified all this. 

XI. 

When Murat, whose humanity — seared as it may have 
been by the carnage of his battle-fields — recoiled in disgust 
from this infernal brutality, had exhausted in vain every 
means in his power to secure at least a decent warfare, he 
resolved to put an end to these barbarities, and drive the 
brigands from the soil of his kingdom. It was the mightiest 
effort of his life, and it was attended with complete success. 

On the birth-day of Napoleon, [August 19th, 1809], while 
the city was transported with the festivities of a great 
celebration, the English fleet sailed into the Bay of Naples, 
and began to bombard the town. The little squadron of 
Murat, all of whose masts and sails were decked out for the 
festival, unfurled its mimic power against the enemy, under 
the command of Murat, who on that day showed that he 
was worthy of the title of Admiral of the French Empire. 
On that day, the first and last occasion when he wore the 
uniform of Grand Admiral, he stood upon the deck of a 
vessel, and began the action. His army had been drawn 
up for a display to grace the festival, on the beautiful shore 
of Chiaja, and their martial music mingled with the roar of 
the fortresses of Naples, until the signals from the Admiral's 
vessel gave a new direction, with something more than the 
fire of blank-cartridges to their military evolutions. Near 
and around the enemy's fleets, in a single minute, the sheila 



508 JOACHIM MURAT. 

of the guns of the Neapolitan forts fell on the gulf; while 
Murat sailed with his little fleet down on the enemy as fear- 
lessly as though he had been on the deck of the Victory, with 
the confidence of Nelson. Says Colletta, " I never saw, in 
the midst of the prosperity of his reign, and the gayety of 
his palace, Murat so much delighted as he was on that day 
fortune seemed to be gratifying all his desires. He stood 
in the midst of war, pomp and glory, the object of admiration 
to an immense people." 

XTI. 

Having repelled foreign invasion, and made the most 
energetic arrangements for the gradual expulsion of bri- 
gandage from his realm, he began the construction of 
several large vessels of war, and devoted himself with the 
greatest zeal and application to the internal improvement 
of his kingdom. Public instruction was taken care of, and 
many public schools were established. Colletta says, that 
the credit of institutions for popular education in the King- 
dom of Naples is due to Murat more than to any other king. 
Bishops were prohibited from printing or publishing edicts 
or pastorals without permission of the government — a hu- 
miliating but just dependence for those who, having been 
free themselves till then, had imposed fetters upon the 
liberties of others. Two hundred convents of Monks or 
Nuns, which held real estate and were considered a curse 
to the entire community, were suppressed, and every vestige 
of priestly rule was for the time almost obliterated from 
the Kingdom of Naples. 

XIII. 
Murat and Caroline now left Naples on a journey to 
Paris, where they had been summoned by Napoleon, to as^ 



AGRICULTURAL REFORMS. 509 

Bist at a family congress in wliich the divorce of Josephine 
was to be decided. Colletta says, that he alone of all the 
family and council, gave a dissenting vote to this measure. 

His Queen remained in France, but Murat returned to 
devote himself to the affairs of his State. He founded in 
every Province a society of agriculture, assigned to them 
lands for experiments, and had a Conservatory erected for 
useful plants. He opened agricultural schools, gave pre- 
miums for superiority, and offered still more brilliant induce- 
ments to inventors of machines or processes useful to agri- 
culture ; while he connected the Agricultural Societies of 
the Provinces with the Garden of Plants at Naples, to which 
noble institution he presented a fine tract of land, with the 
condition that a spacious and beautiful edifice should be 
erected for the preservation in the capital of the plants for 
botanical experiments and for agricultural literature. In 
many ways also he endeavored to promote floral and useful 
agriculture ae the basis of national wealth, uttering in one 
of his proclamations, the noble sentiment, that as the earth 
in some portions of Europe had been so long abandoned to 
the wasting-course of time, recourse must he had to human 
skill, which makes the most meagre soils fertile even un- 
der the most inclement skies. 

XIY. 

Colletta finely says of the nuptials with Maria Louisa, in 
1810, that they were like a malignant comet speeding across 
the track of Napoleon. 

Murat was summoned from Naples to witness the marriage, 
but he hastened back to attend to the affairs of his kino^dom. 
The brigands had become so bold, that they advanced to 
the limits of the camp, and often assaulted and killed the 
soldiers in the neighborhood. Murat himself often went 



510 JOACHIM MURAT. 

distances from the camp, and on a certain occasion, meeting 
a brigand whom the gens d' armes were carrying, bound 
hand and foot to the camp, he said to him — "Sire, I am a 
brigand, but worthy of pardon, for, but yesterday whilst 
your Majesty was passing over the mountains of Sicily, and 
I was in wait behind a rock, I could have killed you — such 
was my design, and I had prepared my arms, but your grand 
and royal aspect disarmed me — I could not fire on such a 
man — you are a king that I could respect. But if I had 
killed the king yesterday, I should not to-day be a prisoner 
so near death." Murat, who was open to any generous 
appeal, gave him his pardon — the brigand kissed the knee 
of Murat's horse, embraced the King's foot, and went free 
and happy. Colletta says, that from that day, he lived 
honestly in his native place. 

Society seemed to be broken up — relations and friends 
were renounced, pursued and killed by friends and relations, 
and men became as they become in an earthquake, in a 
shipwreck, in a plague — solicitous only for themselves, and 
reckless for the rest of humanity. In the beginning of No- 
vember, the lists of brigands numbered three thousand — 
before two months were over, they were numbered only by 
hundreds. There are probably to be found among the re- 
cords of the destruction of brigandage in the time of Murat, 
in the kingdom of Naples, more instances -of barbarity, of 
hardihood, and of heroism, than any other country at any 
period has furnished. 

XV. 

The enginery of destruction which Murat had set in 
motion with his unrelenting hand, was steadily pressed, till 
the last brigand was driven from the kingdom of Naples. 
Colletta says, it was the first time in the life of the restless 



FINAL DESTRUCTION OP FEUDALISM. 511 

and factions Neapolitan people that neither brigands, nor 
partisans, nor robbers, infested the public roads of the open 
country. The Court of Sicily and their English allies, 
lacking material for other domestic incendiarisms, launched 
no longer upon us their accustomed brands of discord and 
conflagration. Justice having vindicated her cause, the 
military commissions were dissolved ; the flying squadrons 
"were recalled ; the military commandants in the provinces 
were divested of all control in the civil administration ; 
enterprises of industry resumed their wonted rigor ; traffic 
again rose into activity ; markets and fairs were crowded 
with people, and the kingdom wore the aspect of civilization 
and public security. The beneficent institutions of Joseph 
and Murat which had hitherto been prevented from putting 
forth their power, now became known to the people, and 
were joyfully accepted. 

Thus, during the same year, [1810], the last trace of feudal- 
ism was swept from the kingdom. The eff'ect of it was not 
so immediate as the suppression of brigandage, but it was 
of far greater importance. The feudal lands were divided 
among the communes and citizens — the vast estates of the 
crown which had produced little or no revenue, and had re- 
mained for ages without cultivation, were cut up into small 
farms and given as premiums to those who displayed the 
greatest science and industry in agriculture. On the first 
of January, 1811, in the midst of the usual festivities of the 
palace, the King conferred upon the most distinguished offi- 
cers of his army titles of nobility with estates, (with none 
of the rights or usages of feudalism, however), and thu 
created a new armed and powerful nobility, devoted to pro- 
gress and the future ; and although Joseph and Murat were 
both generous in the titles and estates they conferred upon 
their favorites, still Colletta says that the history of Naples 



512 JOACHIM MUKAT. 

shows no new dynasty established in that country, where 
so little avarice or prodigality was displayed. Nor had 
any preceding sovereign bestowed his favors upon men who 
had deserved better of the State. 

XYI. 

On the birth of the King of Rome, Murat hastened to 
Paris to offer his homage, and on his return he disbanded 
the French army in Naples, and issued a decree that no 
foreigner who had not first been declared a Neapolitan 
citizen, could any longer enjoy under his reign civil or mili- 
tary stipends. This decree enraged Napoleon, who pro- 
tested against it. Murat hurled back the insult of inter- 
ference on the part of the Emperor, and a hopeless estrange- 
ment would doubtless have taken place between them had 
not Queen Caroline calmed their excited passions. At 
length a compromise was effected, and a spirit of moderation 
signalized the actions both of Napoleon and Murat.- 

But there was not a complete reconciliation between the 
two Sovereigns, for Napoleon never could forget that he 
was an Emperor and had made Murat a King ; while Murat 
never could forget that he, above all other men, had made 
Napoleon an Emperor. In the estimation of Murat, as well 
as many other men, the Empire of Napoleon was approach- 
ing its fall ; and influenced somewhat, doubtless, by cha- 
grin, and inspired also by the highest sentiments of 
honor and of chivalry, Murat began to change his policy of 
government in some respects and look more to the consolida 
tion of his own dynasty than to the promotion of the views 
of Napoleon. He founded new colleges and schools, issued 
new ordinances for public instruction, and inaugurated with 
solemn ceremonies the university of studies. He also began 
and nearly completed many great public works, designed 



murat's last campaign with napoleon. 513 

either to be of general utility or to contribute to the arts 
which adorn and embellish civilized life. He built theatres 
in the chief towns of the Provinces, and roads, bridges and 
aqueducts, and began an extensive system of draining for 
marshes. Among other great roads, he built the Strada di 
Posilipo and Campo di Marte. Many of these public works 
were paid for by Murat with his own money. On the hill 
of Meradois he founded an astronomical observatory, after 
the design of Baron Zach, and it was mounted with the in- 
struments of Reichembachs, who, at the invitation of the 
King, visited Naples to superintend the work, where they 
were greeted by learned men and Murat with more thai? 
regal honors. 

XYII. 

In April, 1812, Murat obeyed once more +he call of his 
old Commander ; and, leaving Queen Caroline Regent of 
his kingdom, he started for the campaign of Russia. For 
the moment all their mutual animosities were laid aside — 
Napoleon forgetting them in the glorious chivalry of the 
greatest leader of cavalry in modern Europe ; and Murat 
giving away again to the fiery instinct of war. We shall 
not again recount any of the scenes of that terrible expedi- 
tion. In one of the last bulletins of the campaign. Napoleon, 
who was moderate in his praises, and none too kindly dis- 
posed towards Murat, wrote—" The King of Naples in this 
battle has accomplished all that could be done by prudence, 
valor, and a knowledge of war. Throughout the campaign 
of Russia, he has shown himself worthy of the supreme rank 
of King." When the French army had reached the banks 
of the Niemen, Napoleon hastened on to Paris, leaving as 
his Lieutenant, the King of Naples. Murat nobly discharged 
his duty till the last ; but when the remains of the French 



514 JOACHIM MTIRAT, 

army liad reached secure and commodious quarters, and llie 
war of 1812 terminated, he resigned into the hands of the 
Viceroy of Italy the chief command, and returned with all 
speed to Naples. But Colletta censures with terms of great 
severity, his abandonment of the French army ; for, he says. 
his kingdom was in repose — England was busy with the 
wars of Germany and Spain — his Regent Queen, whose 
courage and judgment were superior to her sex, was admini- 
strating every providence necesssary for the wants of the 
State. On the banks of the Oder he was not king, but cap- 
tain — not a citizen of Naples, but a Frenchman. There his 
country was wounded, and there, surrounded by danger, was 
struggling the army that had given him his fortune and his 
throne. When Napoleon heard of the departure of Murat 
from the camp, he caused the fact to be published in the 
Moniteur, accompanied with censures on him and encomiums 
on the Viceroy which wounded Murat still more deeply, from 
the fact that these two princes, one of whom was the favorite 
of fortune and the other of the Emperor, had long felt mu- 
tual jealousy and animosity. But this public censure did 
not appease the anger of Napoleon, for he wrote to his sister, 
the Queen of Naples, insulting words against her husband ; 
calling him unfaithful, ungrateful, a bungler in states- 
manship, unworthy of an alliance with his family, and de- 
serving by his machinations, a severe and public castiga- 
tion." 

The King replied directly to the letter ; and, among other 
things, said — " The wound to my honor has been made, and 
it is not now in the power of your Majesty to heal it. Yoa 
have injured an old companion in arms, faithful to you in 
your dangers, no insignificant means of your victories, a 
a prop to your power, and the reanimator of your lost cou- 
rage on the 18th Brumaire. When one has the honor, as you 



MURAT DEFIES XAPOLEON. 515 

say. to belong to your illustrious family, nothirg should be 
done by him to peril its interests or dim its splendor. But 
I tell you, Sire^ that your family has received from me as 
much honor as it gave, on my marriage with Caroline. A 
thousand times, although king, .1 sigh for the days when I 
was simply a soldier. Then I had superiors and no master. 
When I became King, in that supreme rank I was tyran- 
nized over by your Majesty, domineered over in my family, 
and it was then that I felt more than ever the necessity of 
independence and an unquenchable thirst for liberty. Thus 
you torture — thus you sacrifice to your suspicion men faith- 
ful to you, and who have served you nobly on the stupendous 
march of your fortune. Thus, Fouche was immolated to Sa- 
vary, Talleyrand to Chagny, Chagny to Bassano, and Murat 
to Beauharnais — to Beauharnais, who has — to you — the merit 
of mute obedience, and of having cheerfully announced to 
the Senate of France the repudiation of his own mother ! I 
can no longer deny to my people some relief from the severe 
damages their commerce has suffered through maritime war. 
From what I have said of your Majesty and yourself, you 
will infer that our former mutual confidence is changed. 
Yon will, therefore, do what best pleases you. But whatever 
may be your errors, I am still your brother and faithful 
brother-in-law. Joachim." 

This letter being dispatched in the efi'ervescence of anger, 
could not be recalled. Murat supposing the indignation of 
Napoleon would burst forth in a hostile explosion, prepared 
himself for defence. But Caroline, who understood the 
disposition of her husband and the tenor of the letter, from 
words which escaped his easily-impassioned lips, interposed, 
and softened his animosity. This presented an open rupture 
at the time. 



516 - JOACHIM MURAT. 

XVIII. 

King Murat now attempted the organization of a politi- 
cal union of all the States of Italy into a great confede- 
ration — the dream of Italian patriots for centuries. He 
was judicious in all that he did to attempt this grand result, 
and the whole subject is worthy of a volume which would 
unfold the policy that actuated him and the difficulties 
that attended the result. Napoleon once more went to 
meet his enemies, and Murat, who could not resist the al- 
lurements of a victorious campaign, was again attracted to 
the banners of Austerlitz, and once more he joined the army 
of Napoleon. He presented himself with restraint and em- 
barrassment — but he was joyfully received ) and Napoleon 
pressed him to his bosom — for their old affection and the 
souvenirs of so many victories, with a common danger, over- 
came their mutual disdain and the memory of recent dis- 
cords. He was by the side of Napoleon in the battles of 
Silesia and Bohemia, "waiting," says Colletta,- " impa- 
tiently to break through the orders of the Commander ; and, 
if an image may be permitted to the severe style of history, 
was the thunderbolt in the hand of Jove." 

He fought in the great Battle of Leipsic, and it was on 
the banks of the Elbe that he saved the Empire of Napoleon. 
" That Leipsic was preserved and the army afterwards en 
abled to retire by the shortest route to the JJ^hine, was due'," 
says Colletta, " to Murat." After the dangerous retreat 
from Erfurth, Murat took leave of the Emperor with mutual 
fraternal embraces — their last separation and their last signs 
of friendship and afifection. Murat arrived at Naples at the 
close of the year 1813. The reforming genius of the eigh- 
teenth century had swept over the nations of Europe. The 
liberty of France had been welcomed by tumult, and men 
parted with it reluctantly. But political equality had struck 



LAST STRUGGLE OF MURAT FOR HIS CROWN. 517 

its roots deep, and among men and governments a new ten- 
dency had begun. The reaction was to follow ; but it was 
only a step in another cycle of revolutions. 

. XIX. 

It had now become evident that the colossal structure of 
the French Empire was hastening to its fall. Murat felt 
that his tenure on regal power was too dependent on the 
duration of Napoleon's reign, and he therefore received 
proposals of amity, which were made to him by the Emperor 
of Austria in the names of the sovereigns of Europe. He 
negotiated treaties with Austria and with England, which, 
had those nations observed with common faith, would have 
kept him upon the throne. But the moment Napoleon him- 
self had been overwhelmed by the great coalition, the Allied 
Powers trampled every treaty they had made in the dust ; 
and Murat, whose great fault was that he believed their 
word, was brought to ruin. He foresaw his doom, and what- 
ever a brave man could do to save his throne or his fortunes 
was done ; but it was all in vain — he was driven from hid 
kingdom by the very Powers that had pledged him their pro- 
tection, and nothing remains for us but the brief record of 
his last days. His kingdom had fallen to ruins and the re- 
turn of the Bourbon was imminent and certain. He had 
fought his last battle—he had been betrayed by his friends, 
and abandoned by his people. "The spies of Austria had 
been lurking on his track, and the brigands and assassins of 
Italy had been ready for years to take his life. England 
had expended many millions in slaughtering his people, 
hoping by these means to sap the foundations of his power. 
He was at last disheartened ; and abandoning the cares of 
Captain and King, he thought only of saving himself and 
his family. . He delegated the command of his army to one 



518 JO AC HTM SrURAT. 

of his generals and privately entered Naples at evening : 
but he Tvas recognized by the people, when he returned to 
his Capital and Avelcomed back as their sovereign, as 
though nothing had happened. He went to the palace, and 
rushing to the apartments of the Queen embraced her, and 
said — " Fortune has betrayed us — all is lost !" " But not 
all," she replied, " for we preserve our honor and constancy." 
Together and in secret they prepared for their departure. 
A small circle of courtiers and friends, faithful and beloved, 
were admitted and dismissed, after a brief conver'^ation. 
The King made provision with his ministers for many of the 
affairs of the kingdom ; and he was serene, discreet and ge- 
nerous. When he parted with those who had been faithful 
to him, unlike other Kings, he was as munificent as a prince 
when he is mounting a throne. 

XX. 

In the fall of his fortunes he made no provision: for him- 
self; but he instructed his negotiators to take care of 
the State and the army — to insist on the confirmation of 
sales and donations, and protect in good faith all the interests 
of his subjects, and ratify his acts, so far as they concerned 
the fortunes of his people ; " thus leaving," says Colletta, 
" the fame of a good King, and many affectionate and touch- 
ing souvenirs, in the recollections of the Neapolitans." When 
Colletta, his Minister of War, asked him what he should con- 
cede to the enemy, he answered — " Everything but the honor 
of the army, and the tranquillity of the people. I wish to bear 
all the burdens of the misfortune myself." These condi 
tions were stipulated in the treaty with the Allies, and at 
the bottom of it were written these words — " The Emperor 
of Austria gives to this Treaty his formal guarantee." 
Every condition of it was violated, and a reign of terror 



mtteat's flight rR03i niG nixGDOM. 519* 

began the very moment the tyrant Ferdinand once more set 
his foot in Naples. 

On the evening of the same day, when the King hud 
learned of the ratification of the treaty, and he had done all 
that honor, affection, or good faith could do, he set out 
privately for the sea-shore, where he took a small vessel and 
sailed over to Ischia. On this island he was venerated as 
King for a day, and then, in a larger vessel, with a small 
suite of courtiers and servants, without pomp or luxury, or 
even the comforts of life, he sailed for the coast of France. 
Queen Caroline had remained in the Eoyal Palace at Naples, 
Regent of the kingdom ; but when the Bourbons were again 
entering the city, according to previous arrangements, she 
embarked on an English line-of-battle-ship, with some of her 
court and former ministers, and a large number of other 
persons who could not put any faith in the word of a Bour- 
bon, although signed, sealed and ratified by treaty. On the 
23d of the month, the Austrian army entered Naples, at- 
tended with every scene of triumph and martial display. 
The Royal Prince, Don Leopald Bourbon, was on horseback, 
attended by a numerous court, joyfully returning the popular 
salutations ; and as the news had been spread during the last 
two days by couriers, telegraphs, and common report, the 
restored government was everywhere recognized and feted 
— the reign of Murat disappeared ; names, images, emblems 
and ensigns — the Queen alone, a prisoner on a line-of-battle- 
ship in the harbor, the spectacle and the spectator of her 
miseries. 

XXI. 

Says Colletta, whose account we follow — Traversing 
the Gulf of Gaeta, from whose towers he saw his flag 
waving, and thinking that his children were within those 



■620 JOACHIM MURAT. 

walls, his natural impulses and long familiarity with war 
urged him to enter the fortress, and still struggle like a 
desperate man, without a hope of saving his kingdom. But 
several ships closing the entrance of the port, he mournfully 
turned his prow toward the west. 

He arrived at Frejus, the 28th of May, and landed on 
the same coast that the prisoner of Elba, two months before, 
and with a better fate, had touched. On the soil of France 
a thousand thoughts and recollections agitated him — the 
first fruits of his valor, his hardships, his fortunes, his 
diadem, his name ; on the other side, the recent events of 
the war of Russia, the anger of Napoleon, the in- 
trigues with Austria and England, the alliance and the war 
against France, abandonment and ingratitude. Adver- 
sity had softened that proud spirit, and fear prevailing 
over hope, he did not dare to go on to Paris but stopped at 
Toulon. 

He wrote letters to the minister Fouche, who had been 
his friend in prosperity. Fouche presented the letters to 
Napoleon, who asked what treaty of peace he had signed 
with the King of Naples after the war of the year 1814 ; 
thus recalling his injuries in vindication of himself. Murat 
remained in Toulon, respected by the people, or, perhaps, 
commiserated for his misfortunes, and from recollections of 
his former greatness or expectations of new events. 

That troubled repose was soon after disturbed by the 
news of the battle of Waterloo. Murat kept himself con- 
cealed, and sent letters to Fouche, who a little before, minis- 
ter of Napoleon, and now minister of Louis, had preserved 
entire his authority and power with hostile kings, amid the 
ruin of kingdoms. Murat prayed him for a passport for 
England, promising to live as a private man, subject to the 
laws. But Fouche made no reply. 



HIS FLIGHT AND WANDERINGS. 521 

The lot of the unhappy Murat was every day becoming 
worse. He wrote a letter to the King of France, neither 
haughty nor abject, but worthy of an unfortunate and fugi- 
tive monarch, and inclosed it to Fouche, begging him to 
consign it to the royal hands. The letter bore no date, for 
lie would neither discover his retreat nor lie ; he dated his 
note to the minister, " From the dark abyss of my prison ;'' 
but he said nothing else to excite compassion. 

He gained nothing by these supplications ; the cunning 
minister made no reply, and the king was silent. Miserable 
and desperate, he determined to iind his way to Paris and 
confide his fortune to the allied sovereigns. Recalling the 
diadem that once pressed his brow, the splendors of war, his 
familiar conversations with those kings, the hands so often 
extended in pledge of friendship and of fidelity, he hoped 
for safety and a noble reception. He did not undertake the 
journey by land in order to avoid the roads, still wet with 
the blood of Marshal Brune ; but he chartered a vessel to 
take him to Havre de Grace, whence without danger he 
could get to Paris. 

He chose for the embarkation a secluded part of the coast 
at the dead of night ; but by some mistake or chance the 
vessel landed at another place. After waiting and searching 
for it a long time, he saw the day was breaking, and he went 
wandering through woods and vineyards. He fortunately 
found another asylum ; he eluded the snares of his enemies, 
and at last on a small boat fled from France to Corsica, 
that hospitable island, the birth-place of so many who had 
n other days been his followers in wars and on fields of 
glory. After a voyage of two days a tempest arose, and 
for thirty hours his vessel was abandoned to the fortunes 
of the sea. When the storm subsided they fell in with the 
mail packet, which plies regularly between Marseilles and 



522 JOACHIM MURAT. 

Bastia. Murat with a bold countenance revealed his name 
to the pilots, and added, " I am a Frenchman — and I speak to 
my countrymen ; I am near shipwreck, and I ask help from 
those who are sailing without danger." He was received 
and honored as a king. 

XXI. 

On the following day he was landed at Bastia. Corsica 
was at that time agitated by civil discords between the 
Bourbonists, Bonapartists and Independents. The first of 
these parties was small and weak, but the other two were 
strong, and confided in Murat for some new political move- 
ment. Hence the authorities of the island were suspicious 
of him, and from motives of security and prudence he passed 
to Vescondo, and thence to Ajaccio, closely pursued by the 
magistrates of the island, and continually defended by the 
islanders, who had risen in arms. These popular recogni- 
tions made him feel once more like a king, and with a false 
image of fortune glittering on his eye, he frequently said — 
" If strangers fight for me, what will not the Neapolitans do ? 
I accept the augury." 

He then formed the design, which he revealed to none 
but his most intimate confidants, of landing at Salerno, where 
three thousand of his old army were stationed, idle and dis- 
contented with the Bourbon government ; to march with 
them to Avellino, swelling his ranks on the way with sol- 
diers and partisans. With these plans he assembled a com- 
pany of two hundred and fifty Corsicans who were faithful 
to him and ready for battle, and freighted six barques. Ho 
fixed the day of his departure ; but shortly before the time, 
letters of Macerani from Calvi announced that he was on his 
way from Ajaccio, the bearer of good news. Murat waited 
for him, and he arrived the next day, narrated briefly what 



HE EMBARKS TO RE-CONQUER NAPLES. 623 

he Lad done, and put into his hands a paper written m 
French, which said — 

" His Majesty the Emperor of Austria, grants an asylum 
to King Murat on the following conditions : — 

" 1st. The king will assume a private name ; the queen 
haying taken that of Lipano, the same is proposed to the king. 

" 2d. The king can reside in a city of Bohemia, or Mo- 
ravia, or Austria Proper ; or, if he wishes, in any country 
town of the provinces. 

" 3d. He will give a guarantee on his honor, not to 
abandon the Austrian States without express permission of 
the Emperor, and to live as a private man, subject to the 
Austrian monarchy. 

" Given at Paris the 1st of September, 1815. 

" By command of S. M. F. R. A., 

"Prince Metternich." 

" A prison then," said Murat, " is my asylum ! A prison 
is a tomb, and to a king who has fallen from a throne, there 
remains nothing but to die like a soldier. You arrive late, 
Macerani ; I have already fixed my destiny. I waited three 
months the decision of the Allied Sovereigns ; those same 
men who were once rivals in courting my friendship, after- 
ward abandoned me to the sword of my enemies. I go Avith 
happy hopes of re-conquering my States. The unfortunate 
War of Italy has robbed me of none of my rights ; kingdoms 
are lost and acquired by arms ; a right to a crown is im- 
mutable, and fallen kings raise themselves to their thrones 
f it be the will of fortune, which is the instrument of God. 
If I fail in my undertaking, my imprisonment will find an 
excuse in necessity, but I never will preserve, as a voluntary 
slave, under barbarous laws, the miserable remains of my 
life. But. be assured, that Naples shall be my St. Helena.*' 



524 JOACHIM MUKAT. 

XXIII. 

On the same night, the 28th of September, the little 
fleet weighed anchor, and left the harbor of Ajaccio. The 
heavens were serene, the sea was placid, the wind propitious, 
the band was in high spirits, and the king was gay. Falla- 
cious appearances ! 

The government of Naples was thoroughly informed of 
Murat's movements. As soon as they heard that he was in 
Corsica, a spy followed his track. For six days the fleet 
sailed prosperously, when it was dispersed by a tempest 
which lasted three days ; two of the vessels, one of which 
bore Murat, wandered into the Gulf of Santa Eufemia ; two 
others within sight of Policastro ; a fifth upon the coast of 
Sicily, and the sixth was drifting on the sea. Murat hesi- 
tated, but afterwards became daring and desperate ; he re- 
solved to land at Pizzo and move with twenty-eight followers 
to the conquest of a kingdom ! 

It was the 8th of October, and a holiday; the Civic 
Guard were drawn up for exercise in the square, when 
Murat, landing, with his colors flying, he and his followers 
cried, * Viva King Murat.' At this shout the bystanders, 
who perceived what must be the unhappy end of so rash an 
undertaking, stood mute. Murat at this cool reception 
hastened his steps toward Monteleone, a populous city, the 
capital of the province, which he hoped was friendl}^ to him, 
for he could not believe it ungrateful. But in Pizzo, a cap- 
tain Trentacapelli and an agent of the Duke of Infantado, 
devoted to the Bourbons, the first by ancient and atrocious 
services, and the latter by disposition, hastily maneuvered 
their adherents and partisans, and advanced upon him with 
a discharge of muskets. He stopped and answered them, 
not by arms but by salutations. Impunity increased the 
courage of the profligate villains ; they fired other shots, 



CAPTURE AND IMPRISOXMEXT OF MURAT. 525 

killing Captain Moltedo and wounding Lieutenant Pernice ; 
the others then prepared to fi^'ht, but Murat by a word and 
motion of his arm, prohibited it. 

The enemy crowded round him, and shut up the road, 
and there was no escape except to the sea, which was 
bordered by overhanging masses of rock. Murat preci- 
pitated himself down the steep, and reaching the shore, saw 
his bark moving out to sea. With a loud voice he called Bar- 
bara, (the name of its captain), who, hearing him, pressed 
liis sails still harder, to make gain out of his rich spoil. 
It was the act of a villain ! for while Murat Avas on the 
throne, he had enticed this man from the life of a corsair, 
and, although a Maltese, had admitted him into his navy, 
and in a brief space raised him to the command of a frigate, 
and made him a cavalier and a baron. Despairing of help 
from that quarter, Murat tried to launch from the beach a 
small vessel — but his force was insufficient ; and while he 
was struggling, Trentacapelli with his corps came up ; they 
surrounded him, they seized him, they stripped from him the 
jewels he wore on his head and breast, then wounded him 
in the face, and with a thousand insults and injuries out 
raged his person. This was the moment of the infamy of 
his fortune, for the violence of a villain mob is more bitter 
than death. Thus defaced, they dragged him to prison, in 
the little castle, together with his companions, whom they 
nad also seized and maltreated. 

XXIV. 

The government received intelligence by telegraph and 
courier, of what had happened at Pizzo. But while messages 
of death were flying on the wings of telegraphs, Murat was 
passing his time serenely in prison. The fatal order, how- 
ever, arrived on the night of thel2tL Seven judges were 



526 JOACHIM MURAT. 

elected, three of whom, with the procurator of the law, were 
among the multitude whom Murat, as a Sovereign, had raised 
from nothing, and upon whom he had heaped gifts and honors 
In a room of the castle this infamous council assembled. 

In another apartment Murat was sleeping the last sleej. 
of life. Nunziante entered, after broad day-light! — com 
miser ation would not suffer him to awake the prisoner 
When satisfied with sleep, he opened his eyes. The General, 
moved with grief, told him that the government had pre- 
scribed that he should be judged by a military tribunal. 

" Alas," he answered, " I am lost! the order for trial is 
an order for death." 

He covered his eyes and wept ; but ashamed of his 
tears, he controlled himself, and asked if he should be 
allowed to write to his wife ? The General replied with an 
afiirmative sign, for his heart was full and his voice suffo- 
cated. Murat, with a steady hand, wrote in French : — 

" My dear Caroline, — My last hour has sounded. In a 
few moments, I shall have ceased to live, and you to have a 
husband. Do not forget me ; I die innocent ; my life is 
stained with no injustice. Farewell, my Achilles ; farewell, 
my Letizia ; farewell, my Lucien ; farewell, my Louisa. Show 
yourselves to the world worthy of me. I leave you without 
kingdoms, without fortune, among many enemies. Be united 
and superior to misfortune. Remember- what you are— not 
what you have been, and God will bless your discretion. 
Do not reproach my memory. Believe that my greates 
suffering in the last moment of life, is in the thought of 
dying far away from my children. Receive a father's I 
blessing ; receive my embraces and my tears. PreserA e 
always in your memory the recollection of your unhappy 
father. Joachim. 

. "P:i22o, 13th October, 1815." 



HIS LAST HOURS. 627 

He cut several locks of his hair, and inclosed them in 
the letter, which he consigned and recommended to the 
General. 

Captain Starace was chosen his defender, and he pre- 
sented himself to the unfortunate D:ian to announce to him 
tlie painful office he had to perform in the presence of his 
judges. Murat answered : — 

" They are not my judges, but my subjects ; private men 
do not judge kings, nor can they be judged by another king, 
for he has no authority over his equals. Kings have no 
judges but God and the people, and if I am regarded as a 
Marshal of France, a council of Marshals may judge me, and 
if as a General, a council of Generals. Before I descend to 
the baseness of these appointed judges, many pages must be 
torn from the history of Europe. That tribunal is incom- 
petent — I blush at it." 

Starace implored him to consent to be defended, but he 
replied with the firmest resolution, " No, sir ! You cannot 
save my life ; let me preserve the decorum befitting a king. 
This is not to be a trial, but a condemnation ; and those who 
call themselves my judges are my executioners. You will 
not speak in my defence — I prohibit you." 

The advocate left in sadness. The judge who was 
making up the process, entered, and, according to custom, de- 
manded his name, and was going on to say something else, 
but the prisoner cut off his troublesome discourse, by saying, 

" I am Joachim Murat, King of the Two Sicilies — and 
vours. Depart ; — take yourself away from my prison." 

Wlien he was left alone, he bowed his head towards the 
earth, with his arms crossed over his breast and his eyes 
fixed on the portraits of his family ; his rapid sighs, his pro- 
found affliction, showed how bitter were the thoughts that 
pressed on his heart. Finding him in that attitude, Captain 



£^.8 JOACHIM MURAT. 

Stratti, liis benevolent keeper, did not dare to address Mm, 
hut Murat spoke, and said- 

" In Pizzo there is joy over my calamity, (he supposed or 
knew it), but what have I done to make them enemies ? I 
have spent for their advantage all the fruits of my long 
hardships in war, and I leave my family poor. I gave fame 
to the army, and rank to the nation, among the most power- 
ful of Europe. For love of you, I forgot every other affec- 
tion ; I was ungrateful to the French, who would have 
judged me on the throne, from which I descend without fear 
or remorse. In the tragedy of the Duke de Enghien, which 
King Ferdinand now vindicates by another, I had no part, 
and I swear it, to that God before whose face I shall soon 
appear." 

He was silent for a moment, and then continued — " Cap- 
tain Stratti, I feel the need of being alone. I render you 
thanks for the love shown to me, in my adversity, nor have 
I any other way to prove my gratitude but by confessing it. 
May you be happy." 

Here Murat ceased, and Stratti, weeping, left him alone. 
Soon after, before the sentence was published, the priest 
Masdea entered, and said — 

" Sire, this is the second time that I address you. When 
your Majesty came to Pizzo, five years ago, I asked your 
help to complete our church, and you granted more than'we 
hoped. My voice then, not having been unheeded by you 
to-day I have faith that you will listen to my prayers, which 
are turned only to the eternal repose of your soul." 

Murat performed the duties of a Christian with philo- 
sophical resignation, and, at the request of Masdea, wrote 
in French, the following words—" I declare that I die as a trv4 
Christian. — Gr. JVI." 



HIS DEATH. 529 

XXV. 

"Wliile these pious offices were being performed in one 
room of the castle, far different scenes were being enacted 
in another. ' That Murat, who had been brought by the 
fortune of arms, to the private rank to which he was born 
had come on a rash enterprise, with twenty-eight compa- 
nions, confiding not in war, but tumults, that he had stirred 
up the people to rebellion, that he had warred against legi- 
timate sovereignty, that he had attempted the revolution of 
the kingdom, and of Italy, and that therefore as a public 
enemy he was, by the force of the law of the Decennio, still 
maintained in vigor, condemned to die.' That law (lor the 
greater derision of fortune,) dictated by Murat, seven years 
before, benignly suspended by him in many cases of govern- 
ment, was, the instrument of his death. 

The sentence was heard by the prisoner with coldness 
and disdain. A company of soldiers tliat had been statioi.ed 
in a small inclosure of the castle, was" drawn up in two lines. 
Murat would not have his eyes bandaged. He gazed se- 
renely on the preparations of arms, and taking the place 
where he was to be shot, said to the soldiers — 

" Save my face — aim at my heart.'' 

A volley of musketry answered his words, and the once 
King of the Two Sicilies was no more ! He fell, grasping in 
his hands the miniatures of his family, which, together with 
his unhappy remains, were buried in the same temple which 
his piety had erected. Those who thouglit of his death, 
wept over it bitterly. His life was checkered by virtue and 
brtune, and his death was unhappy, courageous and la- 
mented. 



BOOK X 



PEIICE LOUIS NAPOLEOl^^ 

PKESIDENT OF THE FRENCH REPUBLIC. 
Born ui the Palace of the Tuilleries, April 20, 1808 




LOUIS' NAPOLEON. 



LOUIS NAPOLEON. 



We. bring this volume to a close with the name and 
history of Louis Napoleon, the Emperor of the French 
Republic. If the title seems to any of our readers misap- 
plied, or inappropriate to the man we write about, a more 
careful survey of his history and ideas, will perhaps explain 
an epithet which would otherwise be deemed improper. If 
we are not mistaken, his theory of national reformation is 
founded on a revival of the philosophy of government and 
progress, which was first unfolded by his uncle, and whiclx 
would doubtless have been permanently established had not 
the Emperor been overwhelmed by a counter revolution. 

Journalism and contemporaneous history have pronounced 
the act of Louis Napoleon of Dec. 2d, 1851, a usurpation, 
without parallel — and certainly, regarded in the light of 
American history, institutions, and character, this may seem 
to be but the mildest epithet that could be used for the oc- 
casion. But we have already bespoken for our work a spirit 
of impartiality in judgment, and we again ask, that the 
reader, before he goes on with this history, will remember 
that we are writing of Frenchmen — of foreigners — of those 
who have neither been born nor educated under our system 
of government, nor in our way of thinking. This fact alone 
should disarm criticism, and obtain for a sober recital of 
facts, at least the tribunal of impartial judgment. 



o34 LOUIS NAPOLEON. 

TI. 

Louis Napoleon, the son of Louis Bonaparte, and Hor- 
tense Beauliarnais, was born at the Palace of the Tuilleries, 
April 20, 1808. A few months before his birth, the final 
separation of the King and Queen of Holland had taken 
place, when Hortense went to Paris, where she resided at 
the Court of the Emperor, as one of its most brilliant and 
fascinating personages. Louis Napoleon was the first prince 
of the Napoleon Dynasty, born under the Imperial regime, 
who received military and public honors at his birth. Along 
the lines of the Grande Armee,.from one extremity of the 
Empire to the other, his birth was announced by the thun- 
der of cannon, and the waving of the tri-color. The second, 
and last prince of the Napoleon Dynasty, born under the 
Imperial regime, was the son of Napoleon himself; and it is 
a circumstance worthy of notice, that Louis Napoleon should 
have been the only prince besides the King of Rome, of 
whom this could be said. The death of the Dukeof Reisch- 
stadt, left Louis Napoleon the legitimate representative of 
the Emperor, and the heir to his Empire. . 

Louis Napoleon was baptized at Fontainbleau, in 1810, 
^ith the splendid ceremonies of the Imperial Court and 
the Church of Rome. After the restoration of the Bour- 
bons, his mother, with the title of the Duchess of St. Leu, 
retired to Bavaria. They were not allowed, however, long 
to remain there, and they took refuge in Switzerland, from 
which they were again compelled to fly ; when they finally 
settled in Rome. The education of the young Prince Louis 
was confided to M. Lebas, a radical republican, and the son 
of Robespierre's associate of the same name, who, on the 
death of that character, committed suicide rather than out- 
live his master. 



MEETING OF THE BONAPARTES IN ROME. 635 

III. 

From tlie downfall of Napoleon to the year 1830, public 
tranquillity reigned throughout Europe. Millions of men 
Lad fallen on the field of battle, and the fortunes of men and 
of nations had been impoverished by a succession of Revo- 
lutions. But this period of repose had been but an interval 
of reflection, and recuperation, and the generation that came 
on afterwards, inheriting the souvenirs of their fathers, 
could not brook the same passive submission to the despo- 
tism of former ages. With such an inheritance of glory as 
the Bonaparte family had been born to, it is natural to sup- 
pose that they would await the first shock of a European 
revolution with anxiety and hope ; and, accordingly, we 
find that in 1830, when an earthquake burst once more 
under the Bourbon throne, leaving Charles X. an exile from 
the home of his fathers, the Bonapartes assembled in Rome, 
to consider the course they should -take in reference to the 
future. Letitia, the mother of the race ; Cardinal Fesch ; 
Jerome, the brother of the Emperor ; Hortense and her son 
Louis, met in the same room. What passed in this family 
conclave we cannot tell. We only know that a knowledge 
of their proceedings came to the authorities of the pontifical 
government ; and a request made to Cardinal Fesch for 
young Louis Napoleon to retire from the Ecclesiastical 
^States, having been disregarded, he was arrested by the 
police in the house of his mother, and compelled under the 
escort of a band of mounted Carabinieri, to retire beyond 
the frontier. 

IV. 

This short-sighted policy of the Papal government, was 
the immediate cause of the disturbances that broke out in 
1831, in the Roman States, and which, but for the armod 



636 LOUIS NAPOLEON. 

intervention of Austria, would have prostrated the govern' 
ment of the Pope. The tocsin of revolution, which had 
Bounded from Paris, had waked all Europe. Poland had 
again lifted her arm, to smite one more blow upon the breast 
of her spoilers. The communities of the old free cities of 
Germany, the inhabitants of the ancient Italian Republics, 
some portions of the Austrian Empire, the revolution of Bel- 
gium, and the general political agitation of Europe, favored 
and invited another attempt at independence in the Penin- 
sula. Having been expelled from Rome, where Louis Na- 
poleon would probably have been harmless, he joined with 
his elder brother in the attempt at a revolution in the spring 
of 1831, and the tri-color was raised at Urbinp, Ferrara, and 
other Italian towns. The name of Louis Napoleon was 
enough to gather arouAd his standard a formidable body of 
men ; and with the aid of General Sercognani, they gained 
several victories over the army of the Pope. Three causes, 
however, prevented their triumph. Austria, who- had her 
ascendency in the Peninsula to maintain, proclaimed an 
intervention, and marched her troops into the Pontifical 
States. A French fleet landed on the coast of Italy, to sup- 
press the insurgents, and the revolutionists themselves had 
no man of superior military genius to guide their move- 
ments. But the successes of the revolutionists were so great, 
that they sent consternation to the gates of Rome, and had 
their plans been well laid, under an old Marshal of the Em- 
pire, they might have overwhelmed the petty tyranny of 
Italy, and rolled back the tide of invasion from Austria and 
France. An edict of exile, banished the nephews of Napo- 
leon from the Italian soil — Louis Napoleon's elder brother 
was seized with a sudden and fatal illness at Faenza, and 
died [March 27, 1831]. Hortense had been aware of the 
attempts of her sons ; and, making her escape from Rome, 



FLIGHT OF HORTENSE AND LOUIS TO FRANCE. 537 

she contrived a disguise for Louis and herself, by which they 
evaded the vigilance of Austrian and French troops, and 
pontifical spies, and made their escape to Cannes — the very 
spot where the Emperor Napoleon had sixteen years before 
landed, on his escape from Elba, for the reign of a hundred 
days. But they were exiles on the soil where they stood, 
and it was the ofiicial duty of any agent of the French 
government to arrest them, if they were discovered. With 
a courageous resolution they, however, determined to press 
on to Paris, and throw themselves on the generosity of Louis 
Phillipe, trusting thereby to obtain some leniency, if indeed 
they should meet with no other favor. There were many 
reasons why the Queen Hortense could ask with some con- 
fidence a favor of the Duke of Orleans. Louis Phillipe 
was under great obligations to Napoleon, for he had allowed 
the mother and aunt of that king, to remain in France, after 
he had been placed at the helm of power, and had settled 
upon them an annuity of 600,000 francs, with which they 
could maintain with dignity, if not with splendor, a condi- 
tion corresponding with their rank. Queen Hortense, who 
had always been kind and generous in the days of her pros- 
perity and power, had been mainly instrumental in pro- 
curing the leniency and the magnanimity that had been 
shown to Louis Phillipe's relations. But Louis Phillipe, 
who scarcely felt himself yet securely seated on the throne of 
France, either did not wish or did not dare to reciprocate 
this favor to the members of the Bonaparte family ; and 
when Hortense and Louis cast themselves at his feet, and 
asked for toleration, even this poor boon was denied them. 
The King endeavored to persuade them to fly from the 
country, telling them that he had not power enough to pro- 
tect them in his realm. The crown had made him more sel- 
fish than he had ever been, and he began his reign and con- 



538 LOUIS NAPOLEON. 

tinued his government under the cardinal mistake that Na 
poleonism was extinct in France. Its final resurrection teas 
the main cause of his overthrow. Louis Napoleon, who had 
now reached a period of maturity — and who was far more 
mature for his years than most princes or men ever become, 
(since he had been industriously educated in the school of 
adversity, and had studied with intensity the principles and 
the policy of the Emperor), asked the King to alloAv him to 
enter the French army. He even begged the privilege of 
becoming a common soldier ; but this request, like every 
other, was denied, and a peremptory order was issued, for 
him and his mother to quit the kingdom without delay. 

V. 

Again they were compelled to seek a new asylum, and 
they fled to the hospitable shores of England — a nation 
magnanimous enough at least to offer a home to all the 
fugitives and hunted exiles of the earth, who fly to her 
shores. When they had recovered from the fright and fa- 
tigue of their flight, they returned to Switzerland [xiug. 31,] 
and took up their residence at Arenemberg. They were 
now on republican soil ; and owing partly to what they had 
suffered, and partly to the associations of their family, and 
in the name of the government of the Canton of Thurgovia, 
the Prince was offered the rights of a citizen, and the 
grateful announcement was made to him in the following 
letter : — 

" We, the president of the petty council of the Canton of 
Thurgovia, declare that the commune of Sallenstein, having 
offered the right of communal citizenship to his highness the 
Prince Louis Napoleon, out of gratitude for the numerous 
favors conferred upon the Canton by the family of the 
Duchess of St. Leu. since her residence in Arenemberg ; 



ItESIDEXCE IN S\MTZERLAXD. 539 

and the grand council having afterwards by its unanimons 
vote of the 14th of April, sanctioned this award, and decreed 
unanimously to his higlmess the right of honorary burgess- 
ship of the Canton, with the desire of proving how highly 
it honors the generous character of this family, and how 
highly it appreciates the preference they have shown for 
the Canton, declares that his highness Prince Louis Napc^ 
leon, son of the Duke and Duchess of St. Leu, is acknow- 
ledged as a citizen of the Canton of Thurgovia." 

To show his appreciation of the honor which had been 
offered him, the young prince presented to the authorities 
of the Canton two cannon with complete trains and equipage, 
and founded a free school in the village of Sallenstein. 

VI. 

In the meantime, Louis Napoleon had not only been pro- 
foundly studying the history, the career, and the political 
principles of the Emperor, his uncle, but he had with no 
little zeal and earnestness devoted himself to military af- 
fairs. He entered as a volunteer in the military school of 
Thum, and in a work which he published on artillery, he 
displayed such proficiency that the Canton of Berne con- 
ferred on him the commission of a Captain in the army. 
This new demonstration of respect inflamed his gratitude, 
and in his reply to the Vice President he says — 

" Monsieur le President, — I have this instant received 
the warrant which informs me that the executive council 
of the city of Berne has appointed me a captain of ar- 
tillery." 

Among other generous sentiments the Prince says — " I am 
proud of being ranked amongst the number of the defenders 
of a state where the sovereignty of the people is recognized 



640 LOUIS NAPOLEON. 

as the basis of the constitution, and where every citizen is 
ready to lay down his life for the liberty and independence 
of his country." 

VII. 

He pursued his studies and remained quietly in his exile 
in Switzerland, when, in 1835, on the death of the Duke of 
Leuchtenberg, the husband of Donna Maria, Queen of Portu- 
gal, he was invited to take possession of the crown of that 
country. He declined the honor in the following letter : — 

" Arenemberg, Dec. 14, 1835. 

" Several journals have noticed the news of my departure 
for Portugal, as though I were pretending to the hand of 
the Queen Donna Maria. However flattering to me might 
be the idea of an union with a youthful Queen, beautiful 
and virtuous, the widow of a cousin who was very dear to 
me, it is incumbent upon me to refute such a rumor', because 
there is no circumstance, of which I am aware, which could 
give rise to it. 

•' It is due to myself also to add that, in spite of the 
lively interest which attaches to the destinies of a people 
who have but recently acquired their rights, I should refuse 
the honor of sharing the throne of Portugal, should it per- 
chance happen that any persons should direct their eyes to 
me with that view. 

" The noble conduct of my father, who abdicated a throne 
in 1810, because he could not unite the interests of France 
with those of Holland, has not left my memory 

" My father, by his example, proved to me how far the 
claims of one^s native land are to be preferred even to a 
throne in a foreign land. I feel, in fact, that habituated 
since infancy to cherish the thought of my nati\e land above 



ACCOUNT OF THE STRASBOURGH INSURRECTION. 541 

every other considoration, I should not be able to hold any- 
tJiino: in higher esteem than the interests of France. 

*' Persuaded as I am that the great name which I bear 
will not always be held as a ground of exclusion in the 
eyes of my fellow-countrymen — since that name recalls to 
them fifteen years of glory — I wait with composure, in a 
hospitable and free country, until the time shall come when 
the nation shall recall into its bosom those who in 1815 
were expatriated by the will of two hundred thousand 
strangers. 

" This hope of one day serving France as a citizen and 
as a soldier, fortifies my soul, and is worth, in my estima- 
tion, all the thrones in the world." 

YIII. 

The Prince had devoted himself with enthusiasm to 
political and military investigations, and had already pub- 
lished his Reveries Politiques, which embraced a scheme for a 
new constitution for France, and his Considerations Politiques 
et Militaires sur la Suisse. These works displayed considera- 
ble ability, and even without the name of the author, would 
have attracted attention. But an event of some importance 
in itself, and of importance to Europe, now occurred, [Oct. 
30, 1836], which was called the Insurrection at Stras- 
bourgh. There was a vast amount of speculation at the 
time by the political writers of Europe, on the subject of 
this insurrection, but nothing rational or satisfactory had 
been published about it until Louis Napoleon addressed a 
complete history of the whole afi'air in a letter to his 
mother : — 

'' Mother, — To give you a detailed recital of my misfor- 
tunes, will be to renew your sorrows and mine ; but, at the 
same time, it will be a consolation both for you and for me, 



542 LOUIS NAPOLEON. 

to put you in possession of all the impressions which were 
on my mind, of all the emotions which have agitated me 
since the close of last October. You know what was the 
pretext which I held out on my departure from Arenemberg ; 
but what you do not know is that which was then passing 
in my heart. Strong in my conyiction, which had long 
made me look upon the cause of Napoleonism as the cause 
of the nation in France, and as the only civilizing cause in 
Europe — proud of the nobleness, and the purity of my 
intentions — I had become firmly resolved to elevate again 
the Imperial Eagle, or to fall a victim to my political 
belief. 

" I set out accordingly in my carriage, taking the same 
road which .1 had followed three months ago, when pro- 
ceeding to Nukirch and Baden. Everything around me 
bore the same aspect as then ; but what a difference in the 
impressions ay Inch animated me! Then I was gay and 
cheerful as the day that smiled around me ; to-day,, sad and 
gloomy, my spirit had taken the infection of the cold and 
cloudy atmosphere which encompassed me. I shall be asked 
what it was that forced me to abandon a happy existence, 
to run all the risks of a hazardous enterprise? I will 
answer, that a secret voice led me on, and that for no con- 
sideration upon earth would I have postponed to another 
time an attempt which seemed to present^^so many chances 
of a successful issue. * * 

" What care I for the cries of the vulgar multitude, who 
will call me mad because I have not succeeded, and who 
would have exaggerated my merit if I had triumphed ! I 
take upon myself all the responsibility of the event, for i 
have acted upon conviction, and not by inducement of 
others." * * 



FLIGHT OF THE PRINCE. 548 

IX. 

" On the 27 th I arrived at Sohr, a small town in tlie granil 
duchy of Baden, where I waited for intelligence ; * * At 
Strasbourgh, on the following day, I saw Colonel Yaudrey, 
and submitted to him the plan of operations which I had 
drawn up ; but the colonel, whose noble and generous sen- 
timents merited a better fate, said, ' It is not here a question 
of a conflict of arms ; your cause is too French, and too pure, 
to be soiled by spilling French blood. There is only one 
course to pursue which is worthy of you, because it will 
avoid all collision — wliea you are at the head of my regi- 
ment, we will march together to General Voirol ; an old 
soldier will not be able to resist the sight of you, and that 
of the Imperial Eagle, when he knows that the garrison is 
with you.' I approved of his arguments, and everything 
was arranged for the following morning. A house had been 
engaged near the quartier d'Austerlitz, where we were all 
to assemble preparatory to repairing to the barracks as soon 
as the regiment of artillery was assembled. 

" On the 29th, at eleven o'clock at night, one of my friends 
came to seek me in the Eue de la Fontaine, to conduct me to 
the place of rendezvous. We walked across the town to- 
gether ; a magnificent moonlight was spread over the streets, 
and I accepted this fine atmosphere as a favorable augury 
for the morrow. 1 carefully obs3rved all the parts through 
which I passed ; the silence which everywhere reigned 
made a deep impression upon me. What, thought I, may 
reign in place of this calm to-morrow ? * However,' I re- 
marked to my companion, ' there will be no disorder if I 
Bicceed, for it is chiefly to prevent the troubles which often 
accompany popular movements, that I wished to accomplish 
this revolution by means of the army. * * I call God to 
witness, that it is not to gratify a personal aml^ition, but 



644 LOUIS NAPOLEON. 

because I believe I have a mission to fulfill, that I risk that 
which is more dear to me than life — the esteem of my fellow 
citizens.' 

" On arriving at the house in the Eue des Orphelins, I 
found my friends assembled in two rooms on the basement. 
I thanked them for the devotion which they had shown for 
my cause, and told them that from that moment we should 
share together whatever might come of good or evil fortune. 
One of the officers had brought an eagle ; it was that which 
had belonged to the 7th regiment of the line. * The eagle 
of Labedoyere!' we exclaimed, and every one pressed it to 
his heart with lively emotion. All the officers were in full 
regimental uniform, and I wore the artillery uniform, and a 
general officer's hat. 

" The night seemed very long. We counted the hours, 
the minutes, the seconds. Six o'clock in the morning was 
the hour appointed. How difficult it is to describe what one 
feels on such occasions. In such critical moments .as these, 
our faculties, our organs, our senses, excited to the highest 
pitch, are concentrated upon a single point ; we are arrived 
at an hour which is to decide all our future destiny. One 
feels a moral strength when one can say, ' To-morrow I shall 
be the deliverer of my country, or I shall be in the grave.' 

" At length, it struck six o'clock. Never did the strokes 
of a clock re-echo with such force through my heart ; and 
*n a moment's time, the sound of the bugle at the quartiei 
d'Austerlitz accelerated still further its beatings. 

"Some minutes more passed away, when it was announced 
to me, that the colonel was waiting for me. Full of hope, 1 
rushed into the street ; M. Parquin, in the uniform of a 
general of brigade, and a commander of battalion, bearing 
the eagle in his hand, were one on either side of me. About 
a dozen officers followed me. 



THE EXILE TOUCHES HIS NATIVE SOIL. 545 

" The distance we had to go was not far ; it was soon ac- 
complished. The regiment was drawn up in order of battle 
in the court of their barracks, inside the gates ; upon the 
grass were stationed forty of the horse artillery. 

" Oh, my mother ! judge of the happiness which I enjoyed 
at that moment. After twenty years of exile, I at length 
touched the sacred soil of my native land ; I found myself 
surrounded by Frenchmen, whom the memory of the Emperor 
was about again to warm with electric heat. 

" Colonel Vaudrey was alone in the middle of the court, 
I was advancing towards him. when the colonel, whose noble 
countenance and figure had, at the nioment, something of 
the sublime about theai, drew his sword, and exclaimed, 
* Soldiers of the 10th regiment of Artillery ! A great revo- 
lution is in course of accomplishment at this moment. You 
behold here before you, the nephew of the Emperor Napo- 
leon. Kc comes to reconquer the rights of the people; 
the people and the army may place full dependence on him. 
It is around him that all who love the glory and liberty of 
France ought to gather. Soldiers ! you will feel, as does 
your commander, all the grandeur of the enterprise which 
you are about to undertake, all the sanctity of the cause you 
are about to defend. Soldiers ! may the nephew of the 
Emperor Napoleon count upon you ?' 

" His voice was drowned at the instant with unanimous 
cries of * Vive Napoleon ! Yive TEmpereur !' 

X. 

" I then spoke in the following terms : — ' Resolved to 
conquer or to die in the cause of the French nation, it was 
before you that I wished to present myself in the first in- 
stance, because between you and me exist some grand recol- 
lections in common. It was in your regiment that tho 



546 LOUIS XAPOLEON. 

Emperor Napoleon, my uncle, served as a capta n ; it was 
in jour company that he distinguished himself at the siege 
of Toulon ; and it was also your brave regiment which 
opened the gates of Grenoble to him, on his return from 
Elba. Soldiers ! new destinies are in reserve for you. To 
j'ou is accorded the glory of commencing a great enterprise 
—to you it is given first to salute the eagle of Austerlitz 
and W.agram !' I then snatched the eagle, which had been 
oorne by one of my officers, M. de Querelles, and, presenting 
it to them, continued — ' Soldiers ! behold the symbol of 
the glory of France, destined also to become the emblem of 
liberty ! During fifteen years it led our fathers to victory 
— it has glittered upon every field of battle — it has traversed 
all the capitals of Europe. Soldiers ! will you not rally 
vound this noble standard, Avhich I confide to your honor 
and your courage ? Will you refuse to march with me 
'Against the betrayers and . oppressors of our country, to the 
.;ry of ' Yive la France ! vive la Liberte ?' 

" A thousand affirmative cries replied to my appeal. AV e 
then set out in marching order, the band playing before us. 
Joy and hope beamed on every face. The plan of opera- 
tions was, to rush to the general's quarters ; to hold — not 
a pistol at his head — but the eagle before his eyes, to lead 
him with us. To reach his hotel, we had to march across 
the town. On the way I had to send an-officer, with a file 
of men, to a printer's, to publish my proclamations — [These 
proclamations were to the following effect : — " In 1830 a 
government was imposed upon France, without consulting 
either the people of Paris, or the people of the provinces, 
or the army. Frenchmen! everything that is established 
without your authority is illegitimate : A national congress, 
elected by all the citizens of the state, has alone the right 
of determining what is best for France : Paris, in 1830 



I 



ATTEMPTS TO WIN OVER THE ARMY. 647 

showed us how to overthrow a wicked government ; H 13 
now for us to show the world how to consolidate the liber- 
ties of a great nation ;"] — another to the prefet, to put him 
under arrest ; and others, in all six in number, were dis- 
patched on special missions ; so that, by the time I arrived 

t the general's, I had thus voluntarily parted with a portion 
of my forces. But, I thought, had I any occasion to sur- 
round myself with so many soldiers? Did I not count upon 
the participation of the people ? And, in truth, whatever 
may now. be said of the matter, throughout the whole of 
my road I received the most unequivocal testimonies of the 
sympathy of the population. All I had to do was to defend 
myself against the vehemence of the marks of interest which 
were lavished upon me ; and the various cries which greeted 
me, showed me that there was not a single party which did 
not sympathize with the feelings of my heart. 

" When we had arrived at the hotel of the general, I 
ascended to his room, followed by Messrs. Yaudrey, Par- 
quin, and two ofiicers. The general was not yet dressed. 
I addressed him thus : — ' General, I come to you as a friend. 
I should be much grieved to raise our old tri-color, without 
having with me a brave soldier like yourself. The garrison 
is on my side ; therefore make up your mind, and follow 
me.' The eagle was tlien presented to him : he repulsed it, 
saying, ' Prince, you have been deceived ; the army knows 

ts duties, and I will go at once to prove it to you.' Upon 
this I retired, giving orders to leave a piquet to guard him. 
The general afterwards presented himself before his soldiers, 

n order to induce them to return to obedience ; the men, 
however, under the orders of M. Parquin, defied his au- 
thority, and answered him only with reiterated cries of 
'Yive I'Empereur !' Eventually the general succeeded in 
makins: his escape from his hotel by a secret door. 



548 LOUIS NAPOLEON. 

" When I came out from the general's, I was greeted with 
the same acclamations of ' Vive I'Empereur ;' but already this 
first check had very deeply affected me. I was not prepared, 
for it — convinced as I was that the mere sight of the eagle 
ought to have awakened in the general old souvenirs of 
glory, and carried him along with us. 

" We now again put ourselves on the march ; we quitted 
the high street, and entered the barrack of Finkemalt. Ol 
our arrival the soldiers crowded round me, and I harangued 
them. The greater part of them then went for their arms 
and returned, rallying around me, testifying their sympathy 
by their acclamations. Upon perceiving, however, that 
some hesitation began suddenly to manifest itself amougst 
them, occasioned by rumors spread amongst them by some 
of the officers who strove to inspire them with doubts as to 
my identity ; and as, moreover, we were losing valuable 
time in an unfavorable position, instead of making the best 
of our speed to the other regiments who were expecting us, 
I told the colonel that we ought to quit the place. He, 
however, urged me to remain ; I listened to his advice, and 
some minutes afterwards it was too late. Some officers of 
infantry now arrived, who caused the gates to be closed, 
and severely rebuked their men. But still they hesitated ; 
and I made an attempt to arrest the officers. Their soldiers, 
however, rescued them, and then a general confusion pre- 
vailed on every side. The space was so confined that all 
our party were scattered and lost in the crowd ; meantime 
the people who had mounted upon the wall, began throwing 
stones at the infantry. The gunners wanted to make use 
of their cannon, but we prevented their doing so ; for we at 
once saw that it would occasion a great destruction of life. 
I now saw the colonel alternately arrested by the infantry 
and rescued by his own men. As for myself, I was on the 



THE PRINCE MADE PRISONER. 549 

point of succumbing in the midst of a multitude of men, who, 
recognizing me, aimed their bayonets at me. I continued 
parrying their blows with my sword, endeavoring at the 
same time to appease them, when the artillerymen came 
and dragged me from amongst their muskets, and placed 
me in the midst of themselves. I then, with some non-com- 
missioned officers, rushed towards the mounted artillery- 
men, to get possession of a horse, but the whole body of 
infantry followed me, and I found myself pent up between 
the horses and the wall, without possibility of moving. 
After this the t^roops began to arrive from all parts, and 
seizing me conducted me to the guard-house. On enter 
ing, I found M. Parquin, to whom I extended my hand. 
Addressing me with a calm and resigned demeanor, he 
said, ' Prince, we shall be shot ; but we will die nobly.^ 
' Yes,' I replied, ' we have fallen in a grand and noble 
enterprise.^ " 

XI. 

" Vehicles were now brought, and we were conveyed to 
the new prison. Behold me then here, between four walls, 
with grated-windows, in the abode of criminals ! 

" At the lodge we all met one another again. M. Que- 
relles, pressing my hand, said to me, in a loud voice, ' Prince, 
notwithstanding our defeat, I am still proud of what I have 
done.' I was then subjected to an examination. 

" ' What was it that drove you to act as you have done V 

" ' My political opinions,' I replied, ' and my desire again 
to see my country free, which I have been prevented doing 
by foreign invaders. In 1830, I demanded to be treated as 
a simple citizen ; they treated me as a pretender. Well I I 
have since conducted myself as a pretender.' 

*' ' You wanted to establish a military government ?' 



650 LOUIS NAPOLEON. 

*' ' I wanted to establish a government founded on popular • 
election.' 

" ' What would you have done if you had succeeded V 

" ' I should have assembled a national congress.' I after- 
wards declared, that as I alone had organized the whole af- 
fair — I alone having led on and involved the others — so also 
I alone ought to take upon my head the whole responsibility. || 

" On being reconducted to my cell, I threw myself upon a 
bed which had been prepared for nie, and in spite of the 
torments of my soul, sleep, which softens our sorrows by 
giving pause to the reflections of the mind, came to calm 
my senses. Kepose does not forsake the unfortunate. 

" The general came to see me, and was very kind in his 
manner. He said to me as he entered, i\ 

" ' Prince, when I was your prisoner, I could find none 
but hard words to use towards you ; now that you are mine, 
I have none but expressions of consolation.' 

" Colonel Yaudrey and I were then conducted to the 
citadel, where I at least had found myself much better off 
than in the prison. But the civil authorities again claimed 
us, and at the end of twenty-four hours we were reinstated I 
in our previous abode. 

" The jailer and the governor of the prison performed 
their duty, but endeavored to soften the rigor of my posi- 
tion, as far as possible. 

" On the evening of the 9th, they came and apprized me 
tiiat I was going to be transferred to another prison. I 
then went out and found the general and the prefect, who 
carried me away in their carriage, without informing me 
whither they were about to take me. I insisted that I 
should be left with my companions in misfortune ; but the 
government had decided otherwise. On arriving at the 
prefecture, I foui d two post-carriages, into one of which 



I 



LOUIS NAPOLEON TAKEN TO PARIS. 551 

they caused me to enter, in company with M. Cuynat, com- 
mandant of the gendarmerie of the department of the 
Seine, and lieutenant Thiboulet — whilst in the other were 
four officers. 

'' When I perceived that my departure from Strasbourgh 
was inevitable, and that my lot was to be separated from 
that of the other accused parties, I experienced a grief 
which it would be difficult to describe. 

" On the 11th, at two o'clock in the morning, we arrived 
at Paris, at the Prefecture of Police. Here M. Delessert 
was very polite to me ; he informed me that you had arrived 
in France, for the purpose of obtaining mercy for me from 
the king ; that in two hours I was to start again for Lo- 
rient, and that I was to be conveyed to the United States 
a French frigate. 

" I told the Prefect that I was in despair at not being 
allowed to share the fate of my companions in misfortune ; 
that being thus withdrawn from prison, without having 
undergone a general examination, (the first was only a sum- 
mary proceeding), I was deprived of the opportunity of de- 
posing to several matters which were in favor of the ac- 
cused ; but my protestations proving to be of no avail, I 
took the step of writing a letter to the king, in which I 
told him, that when I found myself thrown into prison, after 
having taken up arms against his government, there was 
only one thing I was apprehensive of, namely, his generosity, 
since it would deprive me of the sweetest consolation that 
could remain to me, the possibility of sharing the fate of 
my companions in misfortune. I added that, as for myself, 
life was a small consideration ; but that my gratitude to 
him would be great, if he would spare the lives of old 
soldiers, remnants of our old army, who had been led away 
by me, and seduced by the charm of glorious recollections. 



552 LOUIS NAPOLEON 

I also wrote to M. Odillon Barrot a letter, in whicli I begged 
hiin to take charge of the defence of Colonel Yaudrey." 

xn. 

" At four o'clock, I set out again on my journey, accom- 
panied by the same escort, and on the 14th arrived at the 
citadel of Port Louis, near Lorient. There I remained until 
the 21st of November, on which day the frigate destined to 
convey me away, was equipped for sea. * * 

" To Colonel Yaudrey, and the other prisoners, when I 
first saw them on the night of the 29th, I held the following 
language : — ' Gentlemen, you are aware of all the complaints 
of the country against the government of the 9th of August, 
but you also know that no party existing at the present day 
is strong enough to overthrow it — none sufficiently strong to 
unite all Frenchmen in a common cause, if it should succeed 
in getting the powers of government into its hands. The 
weakness of the government, as well as the weakness of 
parties, comes from the fact that each represents only the 
interests of a single class of society. On the one hand, 
some rest upon the clergy and the nobility ; on the other, 
are those who rest upon the aristocratie bourgeoise ; and 
there are others who depend solely upon the proletary 
classes of society. 

' " In this state of things there is only one flag which can 
rally all these parties, because it is the flag of France, an 
not that of faction— I mean the Eagle of the Empire 
From under this banner, which awakens so many gloriou 
recollections, there is no class expelled, for it represents th 
interests and the rights of all. The Emperor Napoleon 
held his power from the French people ; four times did his 
authority receive the popular sanction. In 1804 the heredi- 
tary title 0^ the Emperor's family was recognized by four 



SENT AdAIX INTO EXILE. 553 

million of votes ; and since that time the people have not 

been consulted As the eldest of the nephews 

of Xapoleon, then, I may consider myself as the representa- 
tive of the popular choice — I will not say of the Empire, 
because in the lapse of twenty years the ideas and the 
requirements of France have necessarily changed. But a 
principle cannot be destroyed by circumstances — it can only 
be so by the establishing of another principle ; for it is not 
the 1,200,000 foreigners of 1815 — it is not the Chamber of 
321 members of 1830 — who can render null the principle 
of the election of 1804. The Napoleon system consist in 
promoting civilization, without discord and without excess ; 
in giving an impulse to ideas, at the same time developing 
mutual interests ; in strengthening the hands of power, by 
making it respectable ; in disciplining the masses through 
the medium of their intellectual faculties ; in fine, in uniting 
around the altar of the country. Frenchmen of all parties, 
by giving them for motives of action, honor and glory. 
Restore, I say, the people to their rights ; restore the eagle 
on our national columns ; restore stability to our institu- 
tions. ' What !' I exclaimed, in conclusion, ' shall the princes 
of divine right find plenty of men to die for them in the 
maintenance of abuses and privileges, whilst I alone, whose 
name is the representation of glory, honor, and the rights 
of the people, am to die in exile?' 'No!' exclaimed my 
brave companions in misfortune, ' you shall not die alone ; 
we will die with you, or we will conquer together for the 
cause of the French people.'" 

XIII. 

" In sight of Maderia, 12th December. 
" I remained ten days in the citadel of Port Louis. The 

winds coHiinued for some time adverse, and prevented our 



55-4 LOUIS NAPOLEON. 

going out of port ; at length, on the 21st, a steam vessel 
took the frigate in tow, and the sub-prefect came to inform 
me that I was about to take my departure. The drawbridge 
of the citadel was lowered, and went forth, accompanied 
by the sub-prefect, the commandant of the place, and the 
officer of the gendarmerie of Lorient, and, in addition, the 
two officers and non-commissioned officers who had brought 
me to the place. I walked between a double line of soldiers, 
who repressed the crowds of spectators who had collected 
to see me. 

" We went in small boats to board the frigate, which 
awaited us outside the port. I saluted the gentlemen who 
accompanied me with cordiality, mounted the side of the 
vessel, and, with a heavy heart, soon beheld the shores of 
France disappear from the horizon. 

" The first fortnight of the voyage was very disagreeable. 
We were constantly at the mercy of the tempest and con- 
trary winds, which drove us into the mouth of the- Channel, 
(the Straits of Dover). It was impossible during all tbis 
time to walk a step without holding on by everything that 
came in one's way. 

" It was only within the last ten days that we became 
aware that our destination had been changed. The captain 
had sealed orders, which, having opened, he found directed 
him to go to Rio Janerio, to remain there the time necessary 
to take in fresh provisions, to keep me on board all the time 
he remained in the roads, and finally to take me to New 
York." 

XIV. 

" In sight of the Canaries, the 14th. 
" Every man carries within himself a world, composed of 
all that he has seen and loved, and into which he continually 
withdraws, even when he is wandering over a foreign land. 



HE APPROACHES NEW YORK. 5b5 

At tliese moments I am doubtful which are the most melan- 
choly recollections, those of misfortunes which have befallen 
us, or those relating to happy times which exist no longer. 
We have now got through the winter, and are again sur- 
rounded by summer weather ; steady breezes have succeeded 
to the tempestuous weather of the earlier part of our voyage, 
and the consequence is, I am enabled to remain the greater 
part of the time upan deck, where, seated upon the poop, T 
indulge in reflections upon all that has happened to me, and 
think about you, and about all at Arenemberg. The situa- 
tions in which we are placed depend for their effect upon 
the feelings which we bring to bear upon them. Two 
months ago, I wished for nothing except never to behold 
Switzerland again ; now, if I were to follow my own inclina- 
tions, I should have no other wish than to find myself again 
in my little chamber in the midst of that fine country, in 
which I fancy I ought to be so happy !" 

" January 1, 1837. 

" This is new year's day. I am 1500 leagues away from 
you, in another hemisphere ; happily thought runs over all 
this space in less than a second. I feel that I am near you. 
I express to you all the regrets I feel for all the torments I 
have occasioned you ; I renew the expression of my affection 
and my gratitude. 

"In the morning, the officers came in a body to wish me 
a happy new year ; and I was touched with this attention on 
their part. At half-past four we went to dinner. As we 
were 17 degrees of longitude west of Constance, it was then 
seven o'clock at Arenemberg. You were then, also, proba- 
bly at dinner. I drank to your health ; you, perhaps, did 
the same by me ; at least, I took pleasure at the time in 
thinking so. 1 also thought of my companious in misfortune : 



556 LOUIS NAPOLEON. 

alas ! I am always thinking of tliera. I thought that they 
were more unhappy than myself; and this idea made me 
much more unhappy than, they could be." 

" January 10th. 

" We have just arrived at Rio Janeiro. The coup d^ceil 
from the roads is superb ; to-morrow I will make a sketch 
of it. I hope that this letter may reach you soon. Do not 
think of coming to meet me ; I do not at present know 
where I shall take up my abode ; perhaps I should find 
better opportunities of obtaining a livelihood in Southern 
America. Labor, to which the uncertainty of my circum- 
stances will now subject me, in order to attain a position, 
will afford the only consolation which I can now enjoy. 
Adieu, mother ; remember me to our old servants, and to 
our friends in Thurgovia and Constance." 

XY. - 

He arrived at New York, early in the spring of 1837, and 
in a letter to his mother, says — . • 

" New York, 30th April, 1837. 

" It is time now that I should give you some explanation 
of the motives which actuated my conduct. I had, it is true, 
two lines of conduct open to me, the one wiiich in some sort 
depended upon myself, the other, which depended upon 
events. In deciding upon the former, I became, as you very 
truly say, a means ; in waiting for the other, I should only 
have been a resource. According to my views and my con- 
viction, the first role appeared to me much preferable to the 
other. The success of my project would offer to me the fol- 
lowing advantages : — I should have made in one day, and 
by a coup de main, the work of perhaps ten years ; successful, 



LOUIS XAPOLEON IN THE UNITED STATES. 55T 

I spared France the conflicts, the troubles^ the disorders, attendant 
upon a state of general confusion, which must, I think, occur 
sooner or later. ' The spirit of a revolution/ M. Thiers 
observes, ' consists in an ardent passion for the object in 
view, and a hatred for those who oppose an obstacle to its 
attainment.' Having led the people with us, by means of 
the army, we should have had all the noble passions, without 
animosities ; for animosity only results from a conflict 
between the physical force and the moral force. For myself, 
my position would have been clear, simple, and easy. 
Having carried a revolution with the aid of fifteen persons, 
if I had arrived in Paris, I should have owed my success to 
the people only — not to any party : arriving there victorious, 
I should, of my own free will — without being compelled to 
it — have laid down my sword upon the altar of my country ; 
and then they might well have confidence in me, for it was 
no longer my name alone, but my person, which became a 
guarantee for my conduct.'"' * * 

XVI. 

Although he remained here but a short time, he devoted 
himself with energy and zeal to the study of American 
politics, and investigations into the actual state of arts, 
sciences, and inventions. He was particularly interested 
in some experiments then being made in the development 
of Electro-Magnetism. He visited the rooms where these 
experiments were going on, in company with several of our 
well-known citizens, and although it may have been thought 
that he was prompted by the idlest curiosity, one of the first 
acts of his government after the Coup d^Etat of December 
2d, was the offer of a magnificent premium for any im- 
provement in any part of the world, in the Electro-Magnet, 
showing that he had not forgotten during fifteen years, 



558 LOUIS NAPOLEON. 

the subject in which he then professed to be so deeply in- 
terested. 

It is supposed that it was the intention of the Prince, to 
remain several years in the United States ; and he was 
starting on a long tour to explore the central and western 
portions of this Continent, when he received the following 
letter from his mother, which caused his immediate return 
to Europe : — 

" My Deak Son, — I am about to undergo an operation, 
which has become absolutely necessary. In case it should 
not terminate successfully I send you, in this letter, my 
blessing. We shall meet again — shall we not ? — in a better 
world, where may you come to join me as late as possible I 
and you will believe that in quitting this world I regret 
only leaving yourself and your fond affectionate disposition, 
which alone has given any charm to my existence. This 
will be a consolation for you, my dear friend — to reflect that, 
by your attentions, you have rendered your mother as happy 
as circumstances could allow her ; you will think also of all 
my affection for you, and this will inspire you with courage. 
Think this, that we shall always have a benevolent and 
clear-sighted feeling for all that passes in this world below, 
and that, assuredly, we shall all meet again. Reflect upon 
this consolatory idea ; it is one which is too necessary not 
to be true. And that good Arese, I send him my blessin'g 
as to a son. I press you to my heart, my dear friend. I am 
calm, perfectly resigned ; and I would still hope that we 
may meet again, even in this world. The will of God be 
done. Your affectionate mother, 

" April Sd, 183T. Hortense." 

Louis Napoleon at once set out for Europe, and hastened 
to the bed-side of his dying mother. He found her stilJ 



THE PRINCE AT THE DEATH-BED OF HIS MOTHER. 559 

alive. He administered to her sucli consolations as an 
affectionate and beloved child only can give ; and when she 
died he had the privilege — which those sons only who have 
been depnved of it can appreciate — of receiving of her 
last blessing, and closing her eyes in death. .i 

XVII. 

He was again settled in Switzerland, but entertaining the 
political views he did, and believing with a confidence 
which almost amounted to superstition, in the final ascend- 
ency of his imperial star, he began again to agitate Europe 
by his writings. Lieutenant Laity, one of his friends and 
participants in the affair of Strasbourg, published a brochure 
in 1838, which was intended to justify Louis Napoleon in 
the course he had taken. This pamphlet gave great offence 
to Louis Phillipe, and the Lieutenant was brought to trial 
before the Court of Peers. Before his trial came on, the 
Prince addressed to him a letter, in which he says — 

" My Dear Laity, — You are going then to appear before 
the Court of Peers, because you have had the generous 
devotedness to reproduce the details of my enterprise, and 
to oppose the charges of which I have been the object. I 
do not understand the importance which the government 
can attach to the prohibition of this work ; you know that, 
in authorizing you to publish it, the only object I had, was 
to refute the base calumnies with which the organs of the 
ministry had loaded me during the five months when I was 
confined in prison, or abroad at sea. It was a point of 
honor with me and my friends to prove that it was not a 
wild ambition which led me to Strasbourgh in 1836. They 
pretend that your work involves a new conspiracy, whilst, 
on the contrary, it defends me from the charge of having 



ObO LOUIS NAPOLEON. 

ever conspired ; and it is distinctly stated, in the earlier 
pages of it, that we had waited nearly two years to publish 
the details which related to me, in order that the minds of 
men might be in a state of calmness, and that they might 
judge of the matter without animosity, and without preju- 
dice. 

" If, as I would fain believe, a spirit of justice animates 
the Court of Peers ; if it is independent of the executive 
powers as the constitution would haveit to be, it is impos- 
sible that it can condemn you ; for, as I cannot too often 
repeat, your brochure does not call for a new revolt, but is 
merely a simple and truthful explanation of an event which 
had been misrepresented. I have nothing else in the world 
to depend upon but public opinion — nothing to support me 
but the esteem of my fellow-countrymen. If it is denied to 
me and my friends to defend ourselves against unjust calum- 
nies, I should consider my fate the most cruel that could 
possibly be conceived. You know, well enough, my friend- 
ship for you, to understand how I am distressed at the idea 
that you should become the victim of your devotedness ; but 
I also know that, with your noble character, you suffer with 
resignation in a popular cause. You will be asked, as 
already some of the newspapers begin to ask, where is the 
Napoleonite party ? Reply to this — the party is nowhere, 
but the cause everywhere. The party is nowhere, because* 
my friends have not mustered ; but the cause has partisans 
everywhere, from the workshop of the artisan, even to the 
council-chamber of the king — from the barrack of the sol 
(lier, to the palace of the marshal of France. Republicans 
juste-milieu, legitimists, all who wish to see a strong govern- 
ment and a substantial liberty, an imposing attitude on the 
[)art of authority — all these, I say, are Napoleonists, whether 
tliey avow it or not." - 



THE PRINCE RETIRES FROM SWITZERLAND. 561 

XVIII. 

Laity was condemned to five years imprisonment, and 
Louis Pliillipe determined also on resorting to still severer 
measures. A letter was addressed to the Swiss Confedera- 
tion, demanding the expulsion of Louis Napoleon from 
Switzerland. But that Republic, nestled among the moun- 
tains, where the hunted spirit of liberty has for ages found 
an asylum, steadily refused to comply with the requisition. 
Louis Phillipe marched an army toward the Swiss frontier, 
not doubting that the republic would be at once intimidated 
into compliance with his orders. But the Swiss were de- 
termined to maintain the position they had taken, and they 
prepared to meet the enemy. Although Louis Napoleon 
could not have desired a fairer opportunity than such a 
collision would have given him, to accomplish the great 
purpose of his life, which has now been so triumphantly 
achieved, yet he magnanimously withdrew from the Swiss 
territory, when he saw that the government had generously 
and resolutely resolved to defend him, on the great republi 
can principles he represented. He made known his inten* 
tions in a letter to President Landamann, dated at Arenem- 
berg, 22d September, 1838 :— 

" When the note of the Duke of Montibello was addressed 
to the Diet, I was by no means disposed to submit to the 
demands of the French government ; for it concerned me 
to prove, by my refusal to leave, that I had returned to 
Switzerland without breaking any engagement ; that I had 
a right to reside there — and that there I could find aid and 
protection. 

" A month ago, Switzerland, by her energetic protests, 
and now by the decision of her great councils, at this time 
assembled, has shown that she was, and is ready to make 
the greatest sacrifices for the maintenance of her dignity 



662 LOUIS NAPOLEON. 

and rights. She has done her duty as an independent 
nation ; I know how to do mine, and to remain faithful to 
the voice of honor. They may persecute, but never degraclo 
me. The French government having. declared, that the 
refusal of the Diet to yield to its demands would be the 
signal of a conflagration, of which Switzerland would be- 
come the victim, I have no alternative but to quit a country 
when my presence is made the cause of such unjust preten 
sions, and would be made, the excuse for such great misfor- 
tunes ! 

" I beg you, therefore, M. Landamann, to announce to 
the Federal Directory, that I shall leave Switzerland, as 
soon as the necessary passports are obtained to enable me 
to reach, in safety, a place where I shall find a sure 
asylum. 

" In quitting, voluntarily, at present, the only country in 
Europe where I have met with support and protection, and 
which has now become dear to me for so many reasons, I 
hope to prove to the Swiss people, that I was worthy of 
those marks of esteem and affection which they have lavished 
upon me. I shall never forget the noble conduct of the 
Cantons, who have so courageously pronounced in my 
favor ; and above all, the generous protection afforded me 
by the Canton of Thurgovia shall ever remain engraven on 
my heart. I hope this separation will not be perpetual, and 
that a day will come, when, without compromising the in- 
terests of two nations, which ought to remain friends, I 
shall be able to return to an asylum, which twenty years 
residence and acquired rights have made, as it were, a 
second fatherland. 

" Be good enough, M. Landamann, to convey my senti- 
ments of gratitude to the councils ; and believe me that the 
idea of saving Switzerland from great trouble is the only 



HIS FLIGHT AGAIN TO ENGLAND. 563 

tiling which alleviates the regret which I feel on quitting 
its soil." 

This letter was immediately followed by the retirement 
of the Prince, and the French army were ordered back to 
their garrisons. 

XIX. 

He fled once more to England — the only country in 
Europe, says Monsieur Tremblaire, where the laws of hospi- 
tality are not subject to the exigencies of policy. Not 
long after, an emeute occurred at Barbes, which ended in 
bloodshed. The calumny had been proclaimed by the 
agents of Louis Phillipe, that the Prince had excited the 
disturbance. He indignantly denied it in a letter to the 
Editor of the Times, in which he says — 

" Sir, — I observe in your Paris correspondence that an 
attempt is made to cast upon me the responsibility of the 
late insurrection. I rely on your kindness to refute this 
accusation in the most formal manner. The news of the 
sanguinary scenes which have just taken place, have equally 
surprised and afflicted me. If I were the soul of a con- 
spiracy, I should also be the leader of it, in the day of 
danger. I should not deny it after a defeat." 

Louis Napol<^on now passed twenty months in London. 
How far his connections at this time were maintained with 
his friends in France, or other parts of the world, or how 
far he may have attempted to mature plans for his subse- 
quent elevation, we have no means of knowing ; but no 
doubt can be entertained, that this long period must have 
been one of study and reflection, and the result which has 
now followed shows that he adhered with still deeper in- 
tensity to the immediate purpose of his life. Nothing 
enfeebled it — nothing diverted him from the object he had 



.564 LOUIS NAPOLEON 

in view. To an Ameriean gentleman of higli character, 
who conversed with him at this time, he undisguisedly made 
known his intention, to seize the first moment of fortune, 
to overthrow the government of Louis Phillipe, and aid in 
the establishment of a republic in France. " That time, 
too, Sir," he said, " is as sure to come, as the ashes of Napo- 
leon are one day to repose on the banks of the Seine." In 
fact, and probably without his knowledge, negotiations 
were then pending between England and France, for the 
removal of the body of the Emperor to the Invalides. 

XX. 

In a work which has recently appeared in London, on 
the subject of Louis Napoleon, the writer, without disguis- 
ing the bitterness of his hatred against the Prince, and the 
very name he bears, says that he was not ashamed to boast 
in the presence of Englishmen, " I shall be Emperor of 
France one of these days, and the first thing I shall then 
do, will be to invade England. I like you very well as a 
people, but I must wipe out Waterloo and St. Helena." 
That Louis Napoleon did not attempt to conceal his in- 
tentions, for the future, nor his confident belief in the 
final restoration of the Napoleon Dynasty, we entertain no 
doubt ; but the statement made by this writer, about his 
intention of invading England, is evidently malicious.; 
for the man who wrote the book, from which we make that 
extract, must understand Louis Napoleon's character better 
than to have believed it himself. Nothing of this kind has 
ever manifested itself in the history or disposition of the 
President of France. He is taciturn, impassive, cold and 
impenetrable. He keeps his own counsels, and the very 
fact that he does so, and can do so, is what has made him 
so formidable an object of dread to the European powers. 



THE PRINCE LANDS AT BOULOGNE. 565 

If he were a shallow, vain and conceited man, he never 
would have done what he has, nor would he have been an 
object of terror. 

XXI. 

In August, 1840 — a few months before the removal of 
Napoleon's ashes from St. Helena, Louis invaded France for 
the second time. Embarking with Count Montholon, and 
General Yoisin, with fifty-three other persons, on board an 
English steamer, " The City of Edinburgh," at London, 
[Thursda}^, August 6], he landed at Boulogne, on the coast 
of France. The little company marched into the town at 
an early hour in the morning, and traversed the streets with 
cries of Vive V Empereur. The first attempt to win over 
the troops was made at the guard-house, where they were 
joined by a Lieutenant of the Forty Second Regiment. The 
whole town Avas thrown into excitement ; the National 
Guards were ordered out, and Prince Louis, with his fol- 
lowers, retreated towards the monument, on the hill above 
Boulogne, called the Colonne de JVapoIeon, where he planted 
the tri-color, with a golden eagle surmounting the flag-staff. 
He had taken with him from England a tame eagle, which 
he had taught to eat out of his hand, and a sight of which 
vfas intended to inflame the enthusiasm of the French. 
Proclamations had been scattered, on landing, announcing 
that the Bourbon dynasty had ceased to reign, and that M. 
Thiers was appointed President of the Council, and M. Clau- 
eel. Minister of War. But the Prince was surrounded and 
overwhelmed by superior numbers, and, with all his followers, 
taken prisoners. Three hours after the landing, they were 
all confined in the prison of Boulogne, with the exception of 
a few, who were shot or drowned in their attempts to 
escape. The news was telegraphed to Paris, and tho 



666 LOUIS NAPOLEON. 

government proceeded to bring the conspirators to trial 
before the Court of Peers. 

When Louis Napoleon was brought before his judges, 
[Sept. 28th, 1840], he rose, and thus addressed them : — 

" For the first time in my life it is permitted to me to lift 
my voice in France, and to speak freely to Frenchmen. 

" Undaunted by the presence of the Guards who surround 
me, in spite of the accusations which I have just heard 
brought against me, filled with the recollections of my 
earliest childhood, on finding myself within the walls of the 
Senate, in the midst of you, gentlemen, whom I know, I can 
hardly believe that I have any hope of justifying myself, 
and that you should be my judges. An opportunity, how 
ever, is afforded me of explaining to my fellow-countrymen 
my past conduct, my intentions, my projects ; all that I 
think, all that I have at heart. 

" Without pride, but also without weakness, if I recall the 
rights deposited by the nation in the hands of my family, it 
is solely to explain the duties which these rights have im- 
posed upon us. 

"Since fifty years ago, when the principle of the sove- 
reignty of the people was consecrated in France, by the 
most powerful revolution which ever occurred in the history 
of the world, never was the national will so solemnly pro- 
claimed, never was it asserted by suffrages so numerous and 
so free, as on the occasion when it adopted the constitutions 
of the Empire. 

" The nation has never revoked that grand act of its sove- 
reignty, and the Emperor has declared it — ' Whatever has 
been done without its authority is illegal.' 

"At the same time do not allow yourselves to believe 
that, led away by the impulses of personal ambition, I have 
jrished by these acts to attempt in France a restoration of 



LOUIS NAl-OLEON BEFORE THE HOUSE OF PEERS. 567 

the Empire. I have been taught noble lessons, and have 
lived with nobler examples before me, than to do so. 

" I was born the son of a King, who descended without 
regret from a throne on the day when he had reason to be- 
lieve that it was no longer possible to conciliate with the 
interests of France those of the people whom he had been 
called upon to govern. 

" The Emperor, my uncle, preferred to abdicate the Em- 
pire than to accept by treaty the restricted frontiers, while 
he could not but expose France to the insults and the me- 
naces in which foreign nations to this day permit themselves 
to indulge. I have not lived a single day forgetful of such 
lessons. The unmerited and cruel act of proscription, under 
which for twenty-five years I have endured a lingering 
existence — beginning at the steps of the throne, where I 
was born, and now stopping at the dungeon, from which I 
have just come — has been alike powerless to irritate as to 
fatigue my heart ; it has not been able for a single day to 
estrange me from the glory, the rights, and the interests of 
France. My conduct and my convictions sufficiently explain 
the fact. 

" In 1830, when the people reconquered their sovereignty, 
I had expected that the policy of the following days would 
have been as loyal as the cgnquest itself, and that the desti- 
nies of France would have been established forever ; instead 
of this, the country has undergone the melancholy expe- 
riences of the last ten years. Under such circumstances I 
considered that the vote of 4,000,000 of fellow-countrymen, 
which had elevated my family to supreme power, imposed 
upon me at least the duty of making an appeal to the nation, 
and inquiring what was its will. I thought also that if io 
the midst of the national congress which I intended to con- 
vene, certain pretensions should have made themselves heard. 



568 LOUIS NAPOLEON. 

I should have had the right to re-awaken the glorious souve- 
nirs of the empire ; to speak of the elder brother of the 
Emperor, of that virtuous man, who before me is his only- 
heir ; and to contrast, face to face, this France as she is 
now, weakened and passed over in silence in the congress 
of kings, and the France of that day, when she was so strong 
at home, and abroad so powerful and so respected. The 
nation would then have replied to tho question, ' Eepublic 
or Monarchy — Empire or Kingdom?' And upon the free 
discussion of the nation upon this question, depends the 
termination of our sorrows and of our dissensions. 

" With respect to my enterprise, I repeat it — I had no 
accomplice. It was I alone who determined everything ; 
nobody knew beforehand my plans, nor my resources, nor 
my hopes. If I am guilty as against anybody, it is against 
my friends only. Nevertheless, I hope that they will not 
accuse me of having lightly trifled with courage and devo- 
tion such as theirs. They will understand the niotives of 
honor and of prudence which prevent me from revealing, 
even to themselves, how widely based and how powerful 
are m.y reasons for hoping for a successful result. 

" One word more, gentlemen. I represent before you a 
principle, a cause, and a defeat. The principle is the sove- 
reignty of the people ; the cause is that of the Empire ; the 
defeat is that of Waterloo. The principle— you have recog- 
nized it ; the cause — you have served in it ; the defeat — you 
would revenge it. No, then, ther6 is no dis-accord between 
you and me ; and I will not believe that I can be destined 
to be grieved by the disaffection of any others. 

"Representing a political cause, I cannot accept as the 
judge of my intentions and of my acts a political tribunal. 
Nobody will be imposed upon by your forms. In the struggle 
which is now commencing, there will be but one to conquer, 



BERRYER'S defence of LOUIS NAPOLEON. 569 

one defeated. If you are in the ranks of tlie conqueror I 
cannot expect justice at your hands, and I will not accept 
of your generosity.'^ 

XXII. 

M. Berry er, who conducted the defence of the Prince and 
of his friend Gen. Montholon, not only did what he could 
as a lawyer should for his client, but perceiving among the 
judges many who owed their fortunes to the favors of 
Napoleon, and who had occupied brilliant posts under his 
Empire, M. Berryer in one portion of his speech used the fol- 
lowing language : — " The Procureur General has indulged 
in some remarks on the feebleness of the means employed, 
of the poverty of the whole enterprise, and has chosen to 
speak of these circumstances as worthy only of ridicule. 
Well, if success is anything, let me say to jon who are men, 
and the first men in the state, you who are members of a 
great political body — that there is an inevitable, an eternal 
Arbitrator who stands between every judge, and his ar- 
raigned criminal. Before, therefore, you pronounce your 
judgment, tell me in the presence of the Great Arbitrator, 
and in the face of France, which will know of your decree 
— tell me — without regard to the weakness of the means 
with the rights of the case, the laws and the institutions of 
the country, standing before God and in the presence of us 
who know you ; tell me this — ' If he had succeeded, if his 
pretended right had triumphed, I would have denied both 
him and it — I would have refused to share in his power — I 
would have denied and rejected him.' For my part, I accept 
the Supreme Arbitration I ha.ve mentioned ; and whoever 
there may be amongst you, who before his God and country 
will tell me, ' if he had succeeded, I would have denied 
him' — such a man I will not accept as judge in this case." 



670 LOUIS NAPOLEON. 

It is well known that the firmness, the boldness, and the 
eloquence of the Prince, his followers and his advocate, 
produced such an effect throughout France, that neither 
Louis Phillipe nor his Court of Peers dared to pronounce 
a judgment with all the rigor of the law. Hence on the 
6th of October of the same year, the sentence of the cour 
was made known. All his followers, with the exception of 
three, were condemned to imprisonment, while Louis Napo 
leon was sentenced to perpetual incarceration in a French 
prison. " At least," he said, when he heard it, " I shall 
have the happiness of dying on the soil of France." 

XXIII. 

Before he set out for the gloomy fortress of Ham, in a 
grateful and affectionate letter to Berryer, his counsel, he 
says — " I will not quit my prison in Paris without renewing 
to you all my thanks for the noble services you rendered 
me during my trial. As soon as I knew that I was to be 
brought to trial before the Court of Peers, I determined to 
ask you to undertake my defence ; for I knew that your 
independence of character raised you above all the petty 
influences of party, and that your heart was as open to the 
claims of misfortune as your spirit was able to comprehend 
every great thought, and every noble sentiment. I chose 
you, therefore, out of esteem — I quit you now with senti- 
ments of gratitude and friendship. I know not what fate 
may have in store for me ; I know* not if I shall ever be in a 
position to prove to you my gratitude ; I know not even if 
you would consent to accept proofs of it. But whatever 
may be our positions, apart from politics, and their painful 
obligations, we can always entertain feelings of esteem and 
friendship for each other ; and I declare to you, that if my 
trial had had no other result than to win for me your friend- 



IMPRISONMENT IN THE CASTLE OF HAM. 571 

ship, I should consider myself immensely the gainer, and I 
would not complain of my fate." 

' XXIV. 

The Castle of Ham is one of the strongest and gloomiest 
prisons in Europe ; and the regulations that were estab- 
lished for his imprisonment, were calculated to render his 
position as disagreeable and intolerable as possible. The 
monotony of his life was insupportable ; but, as in the case 
of his uncle, every annoyance and irritation which could be 
resorted to, was called in to embitter his confinement. He 
complained in a vigorous and manly letter to the Govern- 
ment, and yielding as they were compelled to the outward 
pressure of public opinion — that high tribunal, as Webster 
in his fine language calls the public opinion of enlightened 
men among all nations, he was allowed facilities for pursuing 
his studies and literary occupations ; and many of his writ- 
ings at this period were published — particularly Considera 
tions upon the Question of Sugars, the Extinction of Pau- 
perism, Historical Fragments, and other works, which dis- 
played the activity of his mind and the wide range of his 
reflections. He was also allowed to correspond with his 
friends, among whom were many of the most distinguished 
writers of France and other portions of Europe. A small 
garden was also allotted to him within the walls of the 
castle. He was allowed, too, a horse, which he could ride 
within the same narrow limits. 

XXV. 

But although all the members of the Bonaparte family 
were in exile in foreign countries, except Louis Napoleon, 
who was imprisoned for life in an impregnable castle, still 
the smothered embers of the Napoleonic fire had begun to 



572 LOUIS NAPOLEON. 

sliow signs of life ; and so strong was the desire of the 
Frencli people to rescue the ashes of the Emperor from the 
keeping of his enemies, that Louis Phillipe did not consider 
it prudent to resist the public feeling. We have good rea- 
sons for supposing, that he cherished many forebodings in 
regard to the result of the restoration of the body of Napo- 
leon to the keeping of the French people ; yet he considered 
it a matter of necessity to yield to what he found it hope- 
less to resist. We have before described the circumstances 
which attended this important event, and how wide and 
deep a feeling it created throughout France. We now 
speak of the feeling with which this event was regarded by 
Louis Napoleon — the man more deeply concerned than any 
other in what was taking place. When the news reached 
the prisoner of Ham, he placed himself at his table, and 
seizing a pen, dashed off the following rhapsody, in the form 
of an Address to the Ashes of the Emperor : — 

" Sire, — -You return to your capital, and the -people in 
multitudes hailed your return ; whilst I from the depth of 
my dungeon can only discern a ray of that sun which shines 
upon your obsequies ! 

" Be not angry with your family, because they are not 
there to receive you ; your exile and your misfortunes have 
ceased with your life — ours continue still ! 

" You have expired upon a rock, far from your country 
and far from your kindred ; the hand of a son has no 
closed your eyes ; and to-day not one of your kinsmen will 
follow your bier ! 

" Montholon, whom you loved the most amongst your 
faithful companions, has performed the office of a son : he 
remains faithful to yolir ideas, and has fulfilled your kst 
wishes. He has conveyed to me your last words. He is in 
prison with me ! \, 



HIS ADDRESS TO THE EMPEROR'S ASHES. 573 

"A French vessel, under the command of a noble youth, 
went to claim your ashes ; in vain you would have surveyed 
the deck in search of any of your kin ; your family was 
not there. 

" When you touched the soil of France, an electric shock 
was felt ; you raised yourself in your cof&n ; your eyes 
were for a moment re-opened ; the tri-color floated upon the 
shore, but your Eagle was not there ! 

" The people, as in former times, pass around your pas- 
sage, and salute you with their acclamations, as if you were 
still alive ; but the courtiers of the day, whilst rendering 
you homage, say, with suppressed breath — ' God grant, he 
may not awake !' 

" You have at length seen again these French, whom you 
loved so much ; you have returned into that' France, which 
you made so great ; but foreigners have left their trace, 
which the pomp of your return can never efface ! 

" See that young army ; they are tlie sons of your vete- 
rans ; they venerate you, for you are their glory ; but they 
say to them, ' fold your arms 1' 

" Sire, the people are the good stuff which cover our 
beautiful country, but these men whom you have made so 
great, and who are yet so small — ah, sire, regret them not ! 

"They have denied your gospel, your ideas, your glory, 
and your blood ; when I have spoken to the m of your cause, 
Ihey have said to me, ' we do not understand it!' 

" Let them say — let them do ; what signifies to the car 
wliich rolls the grains of sand which it crushes under its 
wheels! They say in vain that you were a meteor which 
has left no trace beliind ; in vain they deny your civil glory 
— they will not disinherit us ! 

" Sire, the fifteenth of December is a great day for France 
and for me. From the midst of your splendid coiicge, dis- 



574 LOUIS NAPOLEON. 

daiuing the homage of many around, you have, for a momeut, 
cast your eyes upon my gloomy abode, and calling to mind 
the caresses you lavished upon me when a child, you have 
said to me, ' You suffer for me : friend, I am satisfied witK 
thee/''' 

XXYI. 

From public as well as private sources, we have derived 
quite a voluminous history of the Prince during his confine- 
ment, from which we should be glad to make more liberal 
extracts than we have space for ; for we conceive it better 
In sketching the life and opinion of any man, to allow his 
own writings to speak for themselves, than to attempt to 
give the spirit of them by condensations or paraphrases. 
"We deem this especially proper and even necessary in the 
case of Louis Xapoleon, for it will afford every reader the 
means of forming an opinion for himself, in regard to his 
character. The world has manifestly so entirely misunder- 
stood the character and views of the French President that 
it is not rational to suppose that their opinions have been 
formed with anything like a complete knowledge of the 
facts. 

A letter, which the Prince addressed from his prison to 
Lady Blessington, and which was put into the hands of M. 
de la Guerronniere, says — 

" Ham, January 13, 1841. 

" Mt Lady, — I have only to-day received your letter of 
the 1st of January, because, being in English, it had to be 
sent to the minister at Paris to be read. I am very sensible 
of your kind recollection of me, and it is with regret that I 
find that your letters hitherto have not readied me. I have 
only received from Gore House one letter from Count 
d'Orsay, which I immediately replied to whilst at the 



HIS LETTER TO LADY BLESSIXGTON. 575 

Conciergerie ; I yery much regret that it should have been 
intercepted, because in it I expressed to him all the grati- 
tude which I felt for the interest which he took in my mis- 
fortunes. I will not give you an account of all that I have 
suffered. Your poetic soul, and your noble heart, have 
already divined all the cruel circumstances of a position, 
where self-doference has impassable limits, and self-justifica- 
tion is shackled with a reserve to which one feels oneself 
compelled. In such a case, the only consolation for all the 
calumnies and all the hardships of fortune is to be able to 
hear, at the bottom of one's heart, an absolving voice ; and 
to receive testimonials of sympathy from those rare creatures, 
who, like you, madam, are distinguished from the ordinary 
crowd by the loftiness of their sentiments, by their inde- 
pendence of character, and who do not allow their affections 
and their judgments, to depend upon the caprices of fortune 
or the dispensations of fate. 

" I have been, for the last three months, in the fortress of 
Ham, together with the General Montholon and Dr. Con- 
neau ; but all communication with the exterior of the prison 
is forbidden ; nobody, as yet, has been able to obtain leave 
to come and see me. I will send you, one of these days, a 
view of the citadel, which I copied from a small lithograph, 
for you may be well aware that, of myself, I know nothing 
of the fortress from the outside. 

" My thoughts often go back to the spot in which you 
dwell ; and I recall, with happiness, the moments which T 
liave passed \\i your amiable society, to which the Count 
d'Orsay still adds a charm, with his spirited and open- 
hearted gaiety. Nevertheless, I have no desire to quit the 
fcpot in which- 1 now am, for here I am in my proper place. 
With the name which I hear, I must he either in the seclusion of 
the dungeon, or in the brightness of power. 



bib LOUIS NAPOLEON. 

" If YOU will deign, madam, to write to me occasionally, 
and to give me some news of a country in which I have 
been too happy not to love it, you will confer on me a great 
pleasure." 

XXYII. 

When he had been imprisoned nine months, he addressed 
a protest to the French government, from which we make a 
few extracts : — 

" Citadel of Ham, May 28, 1841. 

" During the nine months which I have now been in the 
hands of the French government, I have submitted patiently 
to indignities of every description ; I do not, however, wish 
longer to he silent, or to authorize oppression by my silence. 

" My position ought to be considered under two points of 
view — the one moral, and the other legal. Morally speaking, 
the government which has recognized the legitimacy of the 
head of my family, is bound to recognize me as a prince, and 
to treat me as s^ich. 

" Policy has rights which I do not dispute. Let govern- 
ment act towards me as towards its enemy, and deprive me 
of the means of doing any harm. So far it would be right , 
but, on the other hand, its behavior will be inconsequent 
and dastardly if it treats me, who am the son of a king, the 
nephew of an emperor, and allied to all the sovereigns 'of 
Europe, as an ordinary prisoner. 

" In appealing to foreign alliances, I am not ignorant that 
they have never been of use to the conquered, and that mis- 
fortune severs all bonds : but the French government ought 
to recognize the principle which has made me what I am, 
for it is by this that it exists itself. The sovereignty of t!:e 
people made my uncle an emperor, my father a king, and r^e 
a French prince by my birth. Have I not, then, a right to 



HIS PROTEST TO THE FREXCH GOVERNMENT. 677 

the respect and regard of all those, in whose eyes the voice 
of a great people, glory and misfortune, are anything ? 

" If, for the first time in my life, I perchance boast of the 
accident which has presided over my birth, it is because 
pride suits my position, and that I have purchased the early 
favors of fortune, by twenty-seven years of suffering and 
sorrow. 

" With respect to my legal position, the Court of Peers has 
created in my case an exceptional penalty. 

"By condemning me to perpetual imprisonment, it has 
only legalized the decree of fate which has made me a 
prisoner of war. It has endeavored to combine humanity 
with policy, by inflicting upon me the mildest punishment 
for the longest time possible. 

" In its execution, however, the government has fallen 
very far short of the intention which I am pleased to ascribe 
to my judges. Accustomed from my youth to a strict rule 
of life, I do not complain of the inconvenient simplicity of 
my dwelling ; but that of which I do complain, is being- 
made the victim of vexatious measures, by no means 
necessary to my safe-keeping. 

" During the first months of my captivity, every kind of 
communication from without was forbidden, and within, I 
was kept in the most rigorous confinement; since, however, 
several persons have been admitted to communicate with me, 
these internal restrictions can have no longer an object ; and 
yet it is precisely since they have become useless that they 
are more rigorously enforced. 

" All the provisions for the supply of my daily wants are 
subjected to the most rigid scrutiny. 

" The attentions of my single faithful servant, who has 
been permitted to follow me, are incumbered by obstacles 
of every description. Such a system of terror has been 



578 LOUIS XAPOLEON. 

establislied in tlie garrison, and among tlie officials in the 
castle, that no individual dares raise his eyes toward me ; 
and it requires even extraordinary boldness to be commonly 
polite. 

"How can it be otherwise, when the simplest civility of 
look is regarded as a crime, and when all those who would 
wish to soften the rigors of my position, without failing in 
their duty, are threatened with being denounced to the 
authorities, and with losing their places. In the midst of 
this France, which the head of my family has rendered so 
great, I am treated like an excommunicated person, in the 
thirteenth century. Every one flies at my approach, and all 
fear my touch as if my breath were infectious. 

" This insulting inquisition, which pursues me into my 
very chamber, which follows my footsteps when I breathe 
the fresh air in a retired corner of the fort, is not limited to 
my person alone, but is extended even to my thoughts. My 
letters to my family, the effusions of my heart, are submitted 
to the strictest scrutiny ; and if a letter should contain any 
expressions of too lively a sympathy, the letter is seques- 
trated, and its writer is denounced to the government. 

" By an infinity of details, too long to enumerate, it ap- 
pears that pains are taken, at every moment of the day, to 
make me sensible of my captivity, and cry incessantly in my 
ears, vce victis. 

" It is important to call to mind, that none of the 
measures which I have pointed out^ were put in force against 
the ministers of Charles X., whose dilapidated chambers I 
now occupy. 

" And yet these ministers were not born on the steps of a 
throne ; and, moreover, they were not condemned to simple 
imprisonment, but their sentence implied a more severe 
treatment than has been given to me ; and finally, they 



PUBLIC SYMPATHY FOR THE PRISONER. 579 

were not the representatives of a cause which is an object 
of veneration in France. 

" The treatment, therefore, which I endure is neither just, 
bgal, nor humane. 

" If it be supposed that such measures will subdue me, it 
s a mistake. It is not outrage, but marks of kindness, which 
eubdue the hearts of those who suffer." 

XXVIII. 

This protest was soon published in the journals, and the 
government yielded so far as to relax many of its severest 
restrictions. The prisoner's servant was allowed to visit 
the neighboring town on the business of his master ; and 
visitors, many of them persons of great distinction, were 
permitted to see the Prince. About this time, so great had 
been the sympathy manifested for Louis Napoleon, it was 
supposed that an amnesty in favor of the Bonapartes would 
be proclaimed. When he heard of it, the Prince addressed a 
letter to a French editor, in which he says — 

" You tell me that they talk a good deal in Paris about 
an amnesty, and you inquire of me what are the impressions 
produced upon me by that news ? I reply frankly to your 
question. 

" If to-morrow the door of my prison were opened to me, 
and I were told, ' You are free ; come and seat yourself as a 
citizen amongst the hearths of your native country — France 
no longer repudiates any of her children ;' ah ! then indeed 
a lively feeling of joy would seize my soul. But if, on the 
contrary, they were to come to offer to me an exchange of 
my present condition for that of an exile, I should refuse such 
a proposition, because it would be, in my view, an aggrava- 
tion of punishment. I prefer being a captive on the soil of 
France, to be^ing a free man in a foreign land. 



580 LOUIS XAPOLEON. 

" Moreover, I know the value of an amnesty granted by 
the existing authorities. Seven years ago, after the affair 
of Strasbourg, they came one night, and snatched me away 
from the tribunals of justice, in spite of my protestations, 
and without giving me the time to pack up the most neces- 
sary articles of apparel ; thus was I carried two thousand 
leagues away from Europe. After detaining me for some time 
at Rio Janeiro, they took me eventually to the United States. 
Receiving at New- York the news of the serious indisposition 
of my mother, I returned to England. On arriving there, 
what was my astonishment to find all the ports of the Con- 
tinent closed against me, through the exertions of the French 
government ; and what was my indignation on learning, 
that, in order to prevent me from going to close the eyes of 
a dying mother, they had spread abroad, during my absence, 
this calumny, (so often repeated and so often denied), that I 
had promised not to return to Europe. 

" Deceiving the police authorities of the German States, I 
succeeded in making my way into Switzerland, and assisted 
at a spectacle the most agonizing it is possible for the heart 
of a son to contemplate. Scarcely was the corpse of my 
mother deposited in its coffin, when the French government 
wanted to have me expelled from the hospitable soil in 
which I had become a citizen and a proprietor ; the Swiss 
people stood by their rights, and protected me. Neverthe- 
less, wishing to avoid innumerable complications, and, per- 
haps, a collision, I voluntarily quitted, not, however, without 
bitter regret, the scenes where my mother, during twenty 
years, had preserved her French penates, and where I had 
grown to manhood ; where, in short, I had so many friends, 
that I sometimes almost believed I was in my own country. 
Such were the results, as far as I was concerned, of the 
violent amnesty forced upon me by the government. Do 



THE PRIXCE DEFINES HIS POSITION. 581 

^rou think I can wish to experience a second amnesty at their 
hands ? 

" Banished for twenty-five years ; twice betrayed by fate, 
I have experienced all the vicissitudes and sorrows of this 
life ; and, having got the better of the illusions of youth, I 
find in the native air I breath — in study, in the seclusion 
of a prison — a charm which I have not experienced when T 
partiisipated in the enjoyments of foreign countries, where, 
when, being vanquished, I had to drink out of the same cup 
as the conqueror of Waterloo. 

" In a word, I should repeat, supposing that the occasion 
presented itself to me — that which I declared before the 
court of peers — ' I will not accept of any generosity, because 
T know how much it costs.' " 

XXIX. 

The publication of this letter produced great excitement 
in France, and the editor of the journal du Loiret, through 
his paper, asked the Prince, under what title he would be 
prepared to come again amongst the great French family, if 
the doors of his prison were opened to him, and the decree 
of exile, to which all his family had been condemned, were 
evoked ? He replied in the following manner : — 

" Fortress of Ham, Oct. 21, 1843. 

" Sir, — I reply, without hesitation, to the friendly question 
which you address to me in your number of the 18th inst. 

" I have never believed, and I never can believe, that 
France is the property {apanage) of any man or any family. 
I have never pretended to any other rights than those of a 
French citizen, and I never shall have any other desire than 
to see the whole people, legally convened, choosing freely the 
form oi" <rovernment wl ich thev mio-ht think best to have. 



582 LOUIS NAPOLEON. 

"A member of a family whicli owes its elevation to the 
suffrages of tlie nation, I should belie my origin, my nature, 
and what is more, I should do violence to common sense, if 
I did not admit the sovereignty of the people as the funda- 
mental basis of all political organization. My previous ac- 
tions and declarations are in accordance with this opinion. 
If I have not been understood, it is because we do not seek 
to explain defeats — we only condemn them. 

" It is true, I claimed to be in the foremost rank ; but 
that was one in the breach. I had a high ambition, but it 
was one which might be loudly avowed — it was the ambition 
to re-assemble around my plebeian name all the friends of 
national sovereignty, all those who wished for glory and 
liberty. If I have been mistaken, is it for the democratic 
opinions to blame me — is it for France to punish me ? 

" Believe me, sir, that whatever be the fate which the 
future may have in reserve for me. it shall never be said 
of me that, in exile or in captivity, ' I have learned nothing 
and forgotten nothing,' " 

It is certainly very curious, if what Louis Napoleon's ene- 
mies say of him be true, that he should have verified so fully 
the conditions of this letter on his return to Paris. 

XXX. 

His imprisonment had now lasted nearly five years. He 
gives us a glimpse of what he had suffered, in a passage we 
take from one of his letters, written June 6th, 1845 — 

" Years roll by with disheartening monotony, and it is 
only in the promptings of my conscience and my own heart, 
that I find strength to stand up against this atmosphere of 
lead, which surrounds and suffocates me. But I still believe 
with absolute confidence that a better future is approaching." 
Towards the close of the year 1845, Louis Bonaparte, the 



THE PRINCE ATTEMPTS TO JOIN HIS DYING FATHER. 583 

Ex-King of Holland, feeling that his own life was going 

out, made an earnest and touching appeal to Louis Phillipe, 

for permission to hold his son once more in his arms before 

he died. This application being known to the Prince, he 

wrote the following letter to one of the ministers of Louis 

Phillipe— 

"Ham, December 23, 1845. 

" Sir, — My father, whose age and infirmity require the 
attentions of a son, has requested the government to allow 
me to go to him. 

" His application has not been attended with a favorable 
result. ^ 

" The government, as I am informed, required a formal 
guarantee from me. Under the circumstances, my resolve 
cannot be doubted ; and I am prepared to do everything 
compatible with my honor, in order to be allowed to offer 
to my father those consolations to which he has so many 
claims 

" I now, therefore, declare to you, sir, that if the French 
government consent to allow me to go to Florence, to dis- 
charge a sacred duty, I will promise, upon my honor, to 
return, and to place myself at the disposal of the govern- 
ment, whenever it shall express a desire that I should do so." 

XXXI. 

When this application failed, he wrote directly to Louis 
Phillipe, and said — "For five years, I have found, in breath- 
ing the air of my country, ample compensation for the tor- 
ments of captivity ; but my father is now old and infirm, and 
calls for my attentions and care. He has applied to persons 
known for their attachment to your Majesty to obtain my 
liberation, and it is my duty to do everything which de- 
pends on me, to meet his wishes. A council of ministers has 



584 LOUIS NAPOLEON. 

not felt itself competent to accede to my request, to be 
allowed to go to Florence, engaging to return and become 
a prisoner, as soon as the government desires me to do so. 
1 approach your Majesty with confidence, to make an appeal 
to your humanity, and renew my request by submitting to 
you for a generous interference." 

He also wrote letters to many other persons of high rank, 
among whom, Thiers sent the following reply : — 

"Prince, — I have received the letter which you have 
done me the honor to address to me, in order to make me 
acquainted with the refusal which has been given to your 
request. It seems to me, that the desire of seeing a dying 
father, accompanied by the promise of returning to prison 
on the first requisition of the Minister of the Interior, ought 
to have been regarded as sufficient. In my opinion, such 
a measure might have been adopted without inconvenience, 
upon the responsibility of the minister who had sanctioned 
it. I am sorry, Prince, not to have it in my power to be 
of any use to you whatever in these circumstances. I have 
no influence with the government, and publicity would serve 
you little. On every occasion which I can possibly contri- 
bute to solace your misfortunes without contravening my 
duty, I shall be happy to have it in my power to give fresh 
proofs of my sympathy with the glorious name which yoii 
bear." 

XXXII. 

Once more the external pressure of the pul lie opinion of 
Europe was so great, that Louis Phillipe was obliged at las 
to do something which would enable him to say that he had 
offered his freedom to Louis Napoleon ; and an offer was 
made on conditions which it was well known beforehand he 
could not as an honest man accept — he was required to re* 



HE REFUSES THE PARDON OF LOUIS PHILLIPE. 585 

liT^unce most distinctly all claims to the throne of France — 
to acknowledge that he had perpetrated crimes in hin 
former attempts, and a solemn pledge to molest the Orleans 
family no more. The Prince returned the following reply 
to the communication that had been made to him through 
M. Odillon Barrot : — 

" Ham, 2d February, 1846. 

" Sir, — Before replying to the letter which you have been 
good enough to address to me, allow me to thank you, as 
well as your political friends, for the interest you have shown, 
and the spontaneous steps which you have thought it con- 
sistent with your duty to take, in order to lighten the weight 
of my misfortunes. Be assured that my gratitude will never 
be wanting to those generous men who, in such painful cir- 
cumstances, have extended toward me a friendly hand. 

" I now proceed to state to you, that I do not think it 
consistent with my duty to attach my name to the letter of 
which you have sent me a copy. ■ The brave man, who 
finds himself alone face to face with adversity — alone in the 
presence of enemies interested in depreciating his character, 
ought to avoid every kind of subterfuge, everything equivo- 
cal, and take all his measures with the greatest degree of 
frankness and decision. Like Caesar's wife, he ought not to 
be suspected. If I signed the letter, which you and many 
other deputies have recommended me to sign, I would, in 
fact really ask for pardon, without avowing the fact, I 
would take shelter behind the request of my father, like th 
coward who covers himself with a tree to escape the enemy's 
fire. I consider such a course unworthy of me. If I thought 
it consistent with my condition and honor merely and 
simply to invoke the royal clemency, I would write to the 
King, ' Sire, I ask pardon.' 

" Such, however, is not my intention. For six years I 



586 LOUIS NAPOLEON. 

have endured witliout complaining, an imprisonment, which 
is one of the natural consequences of my attack against the 
government ; and I shall endure it for ten years longer, if 
necessary, without accusing either my destiny or the men 
who inflict it. I suffer ; but I say to myself every day, I am 
in France. I have preserved my honor unstained. I liv 
without enjoyments, but also without remorse ; and every 
evening I go to repose in peace. No steps would have beea 
taken by me to disturb the calm of my conscience and the 
repose of my life, had not my father signified an earnest 
desire of having me near him again during his declining 
years. My filial duty roused me from a state of resignation, 
and I took a step of which I was fully aware of its gravity, 
and to which I attached all that frankness and honesty 
which I desire to exhibit in all my actions. I wrote to the 
head of the state — to him alone who had the legal right to 
alter my position ; I asked to be allowed to go and see my 
father, and spoke to him of honor, humanity, generosity, be- 
cause I have no hesitation in calling things by their proper 
names. 

'' The king appeared satisfied, and said to the worthy son 
of Marshal Ney, who was good enough to place my letter in 
his hands, that the guarantee which I offered was sufficient : 
but he has, as yet, given no intimation of his decision. His 
ministers, on the contrary, forwarding their resolution in a 
copy of my letter to the king, which I senl to them with 
firm deference, taking advantage of my position and their 
own, caused an answer to be transmitted to me, which was 
merely an insult to misfortune. 

" Under the blow of such a refusal, and still unacquainted 
with the king's decision, my duty is to abstain from taking 
any step, and, above all, not to subscribe a request for par- 
don under the disguise of filial duty. 



HIS LETTER TO ODILLON BAEROT. 587 

" I still maintain all that I said in my letter to the king, 

because the sentiments which I have expressed were deeply 

felt, and were such as appeared suitable to my position ; 

but I shall not advance a line further. The path of honor 

s narrow and slippery, and there is but a hand-breadth be- 

ween the firm ground and the abyss. 

" You may, moreover, be well assured, sir, that, should I 
sign the letter in question, more exacting demands would be 
made. On the 25th of December, I wrote rather a dry let- 
ter to the Minister of the Interior, requesting permission to 
visit my father. The reply was politely worded. On the 
lJ:th of January, I determined on a very serious step. I 
wrote a letter to the king, in which I spared no expression 
which I thought might conduce to the success of my request ; 
the answer was an impertinent one : — 

" My position is clear. I am a captive ; but it is a con 
solation to me to breathe the air of my country. A sacred 
duty summons me to my father's side. I say to the govern- 
ment — circumstances compel me to entreat from you, as a 
favor, permission to leave Ham. If you grant my request, 
you may depend on my gratitude, and it will be of the more 
value, as your decision will bear the stamp of generosity ; 
for the gratitude of those who would consent to humiliate 
themselves in order to gain an advantage, would be value- 
less. 

" Finally, I calmly await the decision of the King — a man 
who, like me, has lived through thirty years of misfortune. 

" I rely on the support and sympathy of generous and 
independent men like you ; I commit myself to destiny, and 
prepare to resign myself to its decision. 

" Accept, Sir, my assurance of esteem. 

(Signed) " Napoleon Louis Bonaparte.^ 



588 LOUIS NAPOLEON. 

XXXIII. 

Finding at last, that no motive of humanity could bend 
the inflexible will of Louis Phillipe, the Prince determined 
to take the matter into his own hands. It is the right of 
any prisoner who is not on his parole, to break his chains, if 
he can, be he innocent or guilty. This right was supposed 
to appertain also to the prisoner of Ham— a Prince of 
France — the nephew of Napoleon, and the heir to his Em 
pire. He had no sooner settled his purpose than he carried 
it into effect. He escaped from the Castle of Ham on the 
25th of May, and gives an interesting account of it himself 
in a letter to the editor of the Journal du la Somme : — 

" My Dear M. de Geoege, — My desire to see my father 
x>nce more in this world made me attempt the boldest enter- 
prise I ever engaged in. It required more resolution and 
courage on my part than at Strasbourg and Boulogne, for 
I was determined not to submit to the ridicule that. attaches 
to those who are arrested, escaping under a disguise, and 
a failure I could not have endured. The following are the 
particulars of my escape : — 

" You know that the fort was guarded by four hundred 
men, who furnished daily sixty soldiers, placed as sentries 
outside the walls. Moreover, the principal gate of the 
prison was guarded by three jailers, two of whom were 
constantly on duty. It was necessary that I should first 
elude their vigilance, afterwards traverse the inside court 
before the windows of the commandant's residence ; and 
ar-riving there, I should be obliged to pass by a gate which 
was guarded by soldiers. 

" Not wishing to communicate my design to any one, it 
was necessary to disguise myself. As several rooms in the 
part of the building I occupied were undergoing repairs, it 



HIS ESCAPE FROM THE CASTLE OF HAM. 589 

was not difficult to assume the dress of a workman. My 
good and faithful valet, Charles Thelin, procured a smock- 
frock and a pair of sabots, (wooden shoes), and, after shaving 
off my moustaches, I took a plank on my shoulders. 

" On Monday morning I saw the workmen enter, at half- 
past eight o'clock. Charles took them some drink, in order 
that I should not meet any of them on my passage. He 
was also to call one of the gardiens (turnkeys,) whilst Dr. 
Conneau conversed with the others. Nevertheless, I had 
scarcely got out of my room before I was accosted by a 
workman, who took me for one of his comrades, and, at the 
bottom of the stairs, I found myself in front of the keeper. 
Fortunately, I placed the plank I was carrying before my 
face, and succeeding in reaching the yard. Whenever I 
passed a sentinel, or any other person, I always kept the 
plank before my face. 

" Passing before the first sentinel, I let my pipe fall, and 
stopped to pick up the bits. There I met the officer on 
duty, but, as he was reading a letter, he did not pay atten- 
tion to me. The soldiers at the guard-house appeared sur- 
prised at my dress, and a drummer turned round several 
times to look at me. I next met some workmen, who 
looked very attentively at me. I placed the plank before 
my face, but they appeared to be so curious, that I thought 
I should never escape them, until I heard them cry, ' Oh ! it 
is Bernard P 

" Once outside, I walked quickly towards the road of St. 
Quentin. Charles, who, the day before, had engaged a car- 
riage, shortly overtook me, and we arrived at St. -Quentin. 
I passed through the town on foot, after having thrown off 
my smock-frock. Charles procured a post-chaise, under 
pretext of going to Cambrai. We arrived, without meeting 
with any obstacles, at Valenciennes, where I took the rail- 



590 LOUIS NAPOLEON. 

way. I liad procured a Belgian passport, but nowhere was 
I asked to show it. 

" During my escape, Dr. Conneau, always so devoted to 
me, remained in prison, and caused them to believe I was 
ill, in order to give me time to reach the frontier. It was 
necessary to be convinced that the government would 
never set me at liberty before I could be persuaded to quit 
France, if I would not consent to dishonor myself. It was 
also a matter of duty that I should exert all my powers to 
be able to console my father in his old age. 

" Adieu, my dear M. de George ; although free, I feel 
myself to be most unhappy. Receive the assurance of my 
sincere friendship, and, if you are able, endeavor to be 
useful to my kind Conneau." 

XXXIY. 

The part which Dr. Conneau played showed the greatest 
magnanimity, for his period of imprisonment had already 
expired. To give the Prince time to escape and leave 
no room for suspicion, Dr. Conneau remained in the castle 
till Napoleon had had time to effect his liberty. As soon 
as the escape was discovered. Dr. Conneau was arrested ; 
and, being interrogated by the tribunal at Peronne, he 
frankly gave a history of the whole affair. It cost him, 
however, an imprisonment of only three months. 

Again Louis Napoleon fled to London. He immediately 
wrote to Count St. Aulaire, the Frejich Ambassador, [May 
29, 1846], saying — "I come frankly to declare to the man 
who was the friend of my mother, that, in quitting my 
prison I have had no idea of renewing against the French 
Government a war that has been so disastrous to me ; but 
only to be enabled to go and be near my aged father. Be- 
fore taking this step, I made every effort to obtain permissioD 



HIS FLIGHT TO LONDON. 691 

to go to France, and I offered every guarantee consistent 
with my honor ; but finding all my applications fruitless, I 
determined to have recourse to the last expedient which the 
Due de Nemours and the Due de Guize adopted in similar 
circumstances under Henry TV. I beg, M. le Comte, that 
you will inform the French Government of my peaceable 
intentions, and I hope that such an assurance on my part 
will shorten the captivity of my friends who still remain in 
prison." 

He also wrote to Sir Robert Peel, who acknowledged the 
receipt of the letter, and Lord Aberdeen replied in effect, 
that under the circumstances stated, the Prince's sojourn in 
England would not be disagreeable, either to her Majesty, 
the Queen, nor to her Government. But the main object 
the Prince had in view, in effecting his escape, was not 
accomplished. The Austrian Ambassador at London, who 
also represented the Court of Tuscany, refused to sign his 
passport, and King Louis died on the 25th of July, 1846, 
without being able to see his son. He had in his will ex- 
pressed a desire that his body might be laid by the side of 
his eldest son, [who died in 1837], and that the remains of 
his second son, who died in Italy, might be laid by his side. 
This request was granted, and they were buried together 
there, September 29th, 1847. Neither could his only sur- 
viving son be present on this occasion. 

XXXV. 

When the Revolution of February, 1848, broke out, Louis 
Napoleon was in London. In the downfall of the Bourbons, 
and the flight of the territied king from the shores of France, 
Louis Napoleon began to read the fulfillment of his destiny. 
The day the exile of Louis Phillipe began, that day the exile 
of Louis Napoleon ended. He arrived in Paris, February 



592 LOUIS NAPOLEON. 

28th, gave in Ms adhesion as a citizen, and was among the 
first who saluted the Provisional Government. After a 
conference with its members, however, it was mutually 
agreed that it would be more prudent for him to retire for 
awhile from the scenes of the revolution ; and, as M. Tem- 
plaire savs, he. wished to give this new proof of his devotion 
to his country by retracing his steps into exile, and thence- 
forward remain until the elections, then at hand, were past, 
and the Constitution about to be adopted should give con- 
solidation and order to the new State. 

A party, however, who were perhaps not so inimical to 
the Bonapartes, as they were greedy for power, proposed in 
the committees of the National Assembly to retain in force 
the edict of exile in the case of Louis Napoleon. When the 
news reached him, [May 23, 1848], he wrote to the National 
Assembly — uttering his solemn protest against the injustice. 

Letters had also been written to the xVssembly by various 
members of the Orleans family, and these letters had been 
publicly read to that body. They, however, refused even 
to listen to the letter of Louis Napoleon. Lnmediately 
after the disturbances of June 12th, a decree of exile was 
published by the government against him. But having al- 
ready been elected a member of the National Assembly, and 
believing as he did that his presence in Paris would be 
prejudicial not only to the public tranquillity, but to his own 
cause, he had written a letter to the President of the As- 
sembly, declining the honor of representing his constituency. 
He says, " I had set out for my post, when I learned that 
my election had been made the pretext for some diplomatic 
disturbances, and some grave errors. T have not sought the 
honor of being elected a representative of the people, for I 
was aware of the injurious suspicions entertained against 
me. Still less should I seek for power. If the people were 



ADDRESS TO HIS CONSTITUENTS. 69.3 

to impose duties upon me I should know how to fulfill them. 
But I disavow all those who attribute to me intentions which 
I do not hold. My name is a symbol of order, of nationality, 
of glory, and it would be with the liveliest grief that I 
should see it made use of to augment the troubles and dis- 
t?ensions of my country. In order to avoid such a misfortune 
I shall prefer to remain in exile. I am ready to make every 
sacrifice for the happiness of France. Have the goodness, 
^r. le President, to make known to the Assembly the con- 
tents of this letter. I also send you a copy of the letter of 
thanks I have addressed to the electors." M. Templaire 
says, that this address, which was of a nature to calm all 
apprehensions, the President did not think proper to read. 
We shall make an extract from it : — " Citizens, your suf- 
frages fill me with gratitude. This mark of sympathy, which 
is the more flattering as I had not solicited it, found me at a 
moment when I was regretting that I should remain inactive 
while my country needs the co-operation of all her children 
to emerge from the difficulties now pressing around her. 
The confidence you have reposed in me imposes upon me 
duties which I shall know how to fulfill. Our interests, our 
sentiments, our aspirations are the same. A. representative 
of Paris, and now a representative of the people, I shall join 
my efforts to those of my colleagues, to re-establish order, 
public credit and industry ; to insure peaceful relations 
abroad ; to consolidate democratic institutions ; and to con- 
ciliate interests which now seem to be averse to one another 
simply because suspecting one another, and clashing instead 
of marching together towards a single object — that of the 
prosperity of the country. The people have been free since 
the 24th of February. They can obtain anything witliout re- 
course to brute force. Let us then rally around the altars 
of the country and the flag of the Republic, and present to 



594 LOUIS NAPOLEON. 

the world the grand spectacle of a people regenerating itself 
without violence, without civil contests, without anarchy." 

XXXVI. 

The hostility of the executive and legislative departments 
of the government to Louis Napoleon certainly had no ori- 
gin with the people ; for there were not lacking indications 
on all sides that the popular sympathies were with him. 
There were at the time upwards of twenty journals in Paris 
established expressly to advocate his cause. It is, therefore, 
rational to suppose, that precisely the same state of feeling 
existed against him as against his uncle at the establishment 
of the Consulate ; and doubtless the chief members of the 
new French Republic foresaw, in the return of Napoleon to 
Paris, that they would be eclipsed, and their ambitious ends 
defeated. Other indications, however, were thickening on 
the public eye. Louis Napoleon was not only elected a 
member of the National Assembly from Paris, but from three 
other departments in France. Soon after, he heard that he 
had been chosen almost unanimously by the Electors of Cor- 
sica. He declined all these honors in letters to the Presi- 
dent of the National Assembly. 

But a new election was to take place on the 17th of Sep- 
tember ; and in reply to a letter from Gen. Pyat, the Prince 
wrote as follows, under date of August 28th, 1848 : — " Yau 
ask me if I would accept the post of Representative of the 
people, if I were to be RE-elected. I reply, without hesita 
tion. Yes. Now that it has been demonstrated without gain 
saying, that my election in four departments at once was not 
the result of intrigue, and that I have kept myself aloof from 
all manifestations and political maneuvers, I should feel my- 
self wanting in duty did I not respond to the call of my fel- 
low-citizens. My name can now no longer be made a pretext 



HIS APPEARANCE IN THE ASSEMBLY. 595 

for commotions. T am anxious, therefore, to re-enter France 
and take my seat with the Representatives of the people, 
who desire to re-organize the Republic upon a broad and 
sold basis. To render the return of governments that have 
passed away, impossible, we have but one thing to do — that 
is, to do better than they ; for you know, General, that we 
liave not really destroyed the past till we have replaced it 
by something else." Louis Napoleon was again returned to 
J the National Assembly by the Department of the Seine, 
(Paris), by a majority of 60,000 votes, as well as by four 
other departments. He chose to accept the constituency of 
Paris, his native city. 

XXX YII. 

On the 26th of September, he made his appearance in the 
Chamber of the Assembly amidst a scene of great agitation ; 
and having mounted the tribune, he said — 

" Citizen Representatives, — I cannot longer remain si- 
lent after the calumnies directed against me. I feel it in- 
cumbent on me to declare openly, on the first day I am 
allowed to sit in this hall, the real sentiments which ani- 
mate and have always animated me. After being proscribed 
during thirty-three years, I have at last recovered a country 
and my rights of citizenship. The Republic has conferred 
Oil me that happiness. I offer it now my oath of gratitude 
and devotion ; and the generous fellow-countrymen who sent 
mc to this hall may rest certain that they will find me de- 
voted to the double task which is common to us all, namely, 
to assure order and tranquillity, the first want of the coun- 
try, and to develop the democratical institutions which the 
'people has a right to claim. (Cheers.) During a long period 
I could only devote to my country the meditations of exile 
and captivity. To-day a new career is open to me. Admit 



696 LOUIS NAPOLEON. 

me in your ranks, dear colleagues, with the sentiment of 
affectionate sympathy which animates me. My conduct j/oti 
may be certain shall ever be guided by a respectful devotion to 
the law. It will prove, to the confusion of those who have 
attempted to slander me, that no man is more devoted than 
I am, I repeat, to the defence of order and the consolida- 
tion of the Republic." 

XXXVIIT. 

The 26th of October witnessed scenes of great excite- 
ment in the Chamber of the Assembly. It was evident that 
there was a strong party in that body formed against him, 
who were determined to effect his exile and ruin. The 
session broke up in confusion, and the next day Louis Na- 
poleon again ascended the tribune and spoke as follows : — 

" Citizen Representatives, — The unpleasant incident 
which occurred yesterday will not permit me to remain 
silent. 

" I deeply deplore being obliged to speak again of myself, 
because it is painful to me to see the Assembly constantly 
engaged with questions of a personal nature, when we have 
not a moment to lose for the discussion of the great interests 
of the country. 

" I will not speak of my sentiments nor of my opinions — 
I have already manifested them to you ; and nobody has ever 
yet doubted my word. 

" As to my parliamentary conduct ; in the same way that 
I would never pretend to call to account any of my col 
leagues for what they may have thought proper to do, so I 
will recognize the right of no man to bring me to account. 
This is an account which I owe to no one but my constitu- 
ents. (Cheers.) 

" Of what am I accused ? Of having accepted, without 



HIS SPEECH IN THE CHAMBER. 597 

having sought it, a candidature for the Presidency. (Move- 
ment.) Well — yes ! I accept that candidature, by which I 
am honored — I accept it, because the result of three suc- 
cessive elections, and the unanimous decree of the National 
Assembly reversing the decree of proscription against my 
amily, authorize me to believe that France regards the name 
vs^hich I bear as one which may assist in the consolidation 
of society, which has been shaken to its foundation — (loud 
murmurs) — and to the stability and prosperity of the Ee- 
public. How little do those who charge me with ambition know 
of my heart I If a sense of imperative duty did not retain 
me here — if the sympathy of my fellow-citizens did. not con- 
sole me for the animosity of the attacks of some, and even 
for the impetuosity of the defence of others, I should long 
have wished myself back in exile. 

" I am reproached for my silence. It is not given to 
every one — it is given to comparatively few, to bring to this 
place the eloquence of speech necessary to develop just and 
wholesome ideas. But is there no other way of serving 
one's country ? Yv^hat it is in want of, above all things, is 
deeds. What it wants is a government — firm, intelligent, 
and wise — which will think more of healing the wounds of 
society than in avenging them, (cheers) ; a government 
which shall put itself boldly in the front of sound ideas, in 
order to repel, with a thousand times more efi&cacy than 
could be done by means of bayonets, theories which are not 
founded upon experience and reason. 

" I know there are some who wish to beset my path with 
snares and ambushes ; but I shall not fall into them — I 
shall always follow the line of conduct which I have traced 
out for myself, without troubling myself with anxieties, and 
without stopping : Nothing will deprive me of my calmness 
— nothing will make me forget my duties. I have but one 



598 LOUIS NAPOLEON. 

aim in yiew^ and that is to merit the esteem of tlie Assem 
bly, and, together with their esteem, that of all honest men, 
and the confidence of that magnanimous people which was 
treated so lightly yesterday — (murmurs). 

" I declare, therefore, to those who would wish to orga- 
nize against me a system of provocation, that from hence- 
forward I shall not reply to any attacks, nor to anything 
that may be done to excite me — (oh, oh !) — to speak, when I 
choose to remain silent ; and strong in the approval of my 
conscience, I shall remain unshaken amidst all attacks, and 
impassible to calumny — (cheers and murmurs)." 

Immediately after this speech, the 10th of December was 
fixed on by the Assembly, for the election of President, 
and the Prince published an address to Uie French people, 
as a candidate for their suffrages. 

The day of election came, and the following was the 
result : — 

Total number of votes polled - - - 7^59,000 

Of which Louis Napoleon received - - - 6,434,226 

General Cavaignac ----- 1,448,107 

Ledru Rollin -----. 370,119 

Raspail ...-.-. 36,900 

Lamartine ------ 17,910 

General Changarnier - - - - 4,790 

Votes lost - - - - - - 12,600 

Finally, the day of Inauguration came, and an officer ad- 
dressed the Assembly. He concluded by calling on the As- 
sembly to proclaim the President. " Have confidence," he 
said ; " God protects France." General Cavaignac then 
ascended the tribune, and said — "I have the honor to in- 
form the National Assembly, that the members of the Cabi 
net have just sent me their collective resignation, and I now 
come forward to surrender the powers with which it has 
invested me." The President of the Assembly then said — 
*' In the name of the French People : 

" Whereas, Citizen Charles Louis Napoleon Bonaparte, 



HIS INAUGURATION. 599 

born in Paris, possesses all the qualifications of eligibility 
required by the 44th Article of the Constitution ; whereas, 
the ballot gave him the absolute majority of suffrages for 
the presidency : By virtue of the powers conferred on the 
Assembly by the 47th and 48th Articles of the Constitution, 
I proclaim him President of the French Republic from this 
day, until the second Sunday of May, 1852 ; and I now invite 
him to ascend the tribune, and take the oath required by 
the Constitution." 

Prince Louis Napoleon rose from his seat, beside Odillon 
Barrot, and approached the Tribune. He was dressed in 
black. He wore under his coat, the Grand Cordon of the 
Legion of Honor, and on his left breast a star, set with dia- 
monds. He then solemnly took the oath of office — " In 
presence of God, and before the French People, represented 
by the National Assembly, I swear to remain faithful to the 
Democratic Republic, one and indivisible, and to fulfill all 
the duties which the Constitution imposes on me." The 
President was then escorted from the Hall. 

XXXIX. 

It is not necessary for us to record the annals of his 
Presidency — they are known to the world, and still fresh in 
the recollection of our readers : Much less do we feel called 
upon to attack or defend his administration. A few ob- 
servations may however be required. 

His election was the signal of order, political tranquillity, 
and national progress. This is what France meant in ihe 
overwhelming majority over all his rivals — or she meant 
nothing. A political storm had just swept over Europe, and 
all the elements of agitation were still actively at work in 
Paris. Nobody had any confidence in the stability of the 
present state of things. There was no security for life or 



600 LOUIS NAPOLEON 

property. What scenes of carnage the next day-lreak 
might unfold, no man could tell. France held forty million 
men, women and children — not one of whom felt secure. A 
mighty nation was on the verge of chaos. All France felt 
it, and subsequent events proved it. Louis Napoleon felt it, 
and acted accordingly. He was the only man in France 
who understood his own position — he alone understood the 
feelings, the wants, the desires of her forty million country- 
men. He knew, moreover, the exact position of parties in 
France ; and he knew that unless these factions were sup- 
pressed, there could be no permanent repose for his country. 

In every other country in Europe, popular rights had 
been crushed, and constitutions blotted out. Everywhere 
the counter-revolution had triumphed, except in Paris. 
There a Republic was still left — but its existence was 
threatened every hour. Nobody believed in its perma- 
nence. Men can bear up under the certain blow of a great 
calamity — so can nations. Hence thirty millions slept 
calmly in France every night daring Robespierre's Reign 
of Terror — But neither mxCn nor nations can bear uncer- 
tainty. It is the most intolerable of all evils. France had 
got rid of the Bourbons, and now she wanted repose and 
progress. In Louis Napoleon she believed she had both. 

France had nothing to fear except from internal factions 
and parties, and they were ready to tear her to pieces. 
There was the old Bourbon faction, whichT had been de 
feated in 1830, when Charles X. was driven into exile 
This was the party of the readionaires of the Revolution of 
1T89 — befriended and restored to power in 1815, by th 
coalition of the monarchs of Europe. They were the re- 
mains of Feudalism — the representatives of a past, dead 
age. They had contemplated the elevation of Louis Phillipe 
with no more complacency than that of Louis Napoleon. 



POLITICAL STATE OF FRANCE. 601 

/Ley still dream of raising an elder Bonrbon to the throne 
of France, under the title of Henry Y. This faction is 
small — but despotism is on its side. 

The next is the faction of the younger Bourbons — the 
friends of Louis Phillipe — the moderate monarchists. They 
said that the Prince de Joinville would be elected in 1848 
Of 8,000,000 he had 800— one in eighty thousand ! 

XL. 

There was, however, a faction far more formidable — It 
was the Communists. However great the diversity of their 
views, and however numerous the masters they followed — 
from Prudhomme and Fourier, who gilded their moral and 
political fallacies with the charm of learning and the guise of 
philosoph}^^^ — down to Cabet and the Socialist — Romancists, 
they held without distinction doctrines subversive of all go ■ 
vernment, human and divine. Their views were for a long 
time treated as the harmless ravings of fanatical dreamers. 
But gradually the poison had been distilled throughout 
France and Germany — chiefly through the romances of 
Eugene Sue, George Sand, and others — till Communism was 
openly recognized by the Provisional Government, and pro- 
claimed as a dogma of Government by Louis Blanc and some 
of his associates in the administration. The feeble Presi- 
dency of Lamartine was soon compelled to give way to 
more vigorous hands, and nothing but the firmness and 
straight-forward conduct of Cavaignac saved Paris from 
another Reign of Terror. 

Such was the state of France when Louis Napoleon was 
called to the Government ; and such the elements of anarchy 
which he had to contend with. He and all the friends of 
order and tranquillity clearly saw that France could be saved 
only by a vigorous execution of law — that there must be a 



602 LOUIS XAPOLEOX. 

triumpliaiit vindication of the authority of the Government, 
or political chaos was inevitable. Such was the actual state 
of affairs ; and the President regulated his course accorcf- 
ingiy. 

XLI. 

His enemies were just as numerous as the partisans of 
these factions — and no more. All the rest of France wa 
with him ; and has been with him ever since. The politician 
have been against him from the beginning — the Socialists, 
the Revolutionists, the Bourbonists, the Orleanists, the 
Monarchists, the Pamphleteers, the Dreamers, the Theorists 
— have all been against him. But the people have been on 
his side. There are more owners of the soil in France than 
in any other European country — more than in the United 
States. They have all been with him. The Capitalists and 
Manufacturers have been with him and are with him still — 
everybody has been with him but the Factionists. We 
know this is not the common opinion in America. -But this 
can be easily accounted for. We have derived our opinions 
on this subject, as we do on all others which concern the 
Continent of Europe, from English sources. 

With a few remarks on the general subject, which are the 
result of our own reflections, we shall bring the sketch of 
Louis Napoleon to a close. His return from exile, his tri- 
umphant election as President of the Republic, for four years 
with his coup d^etat of 2d December, 1851, and the absolution 
the nation passed on that act by seven million votes — the 
apparent stability of his government, and the success which 
has attended every movement of his administration of power, 
have excited the wonder of mankind, and appeared to baffle 
philosophical solution. From the beginning, however, we 
confess we have seen nothing mysterious in the whole affair. 
It has been rather a matter of surprise that none of the 



CAUSES OF HIS POLITICAL ELEVATION. 603 

public writers of the time should have revealed the causes 

which would satisfactorily explain the progress of events, 

their tendencies and results. 

It would be preposterous to suppose that an individual 

ike Louis Napoleon, without wealth and destitute of power, 

with few or no connections with men who could advance his 

prospects or gratify his ambition, should in a day, spring 

from something worse than obscurity — the odium of repeated 

failures — into an Empire which cost Napoleon the Great, 

many years of incomprehensible toil, and almost miraculous 

achievement. It all seems to us to admit of a very simple 

solution. France itself was ready for his coming, or his 

coming never would have been greeted as it v/as. The 

JVapoleon Dynasty is and will be for some time to come, an 

inevitable government in France — it is the only possible com- 

promise between Bourbonism, or the past, and Republicanism, or 

the future. 

XLII. " 

After the feudal system was broken up in France, the re- 
siduum was ruin. Political chaos was the natural result. 
The fabric of government, within whose inclosure dwelt 
thirty millions of men, could not be shattered to atoms in 
an hour without anarchy and blood. 

The work of reconstruction Napoleon attempted, and, in 
some respects, completed ; but it was in strictly physical or 
civil relations, that he could succeed during his short reign. 
The great social work which was to pervade all France, 
blending the remnants of the impossible past, with the new 
forms of the rising and inevitable future, establish and con- 
solidate a structure that would endure for another cycle of 
time, was to be the achievement of generations. 

This work of progress which the government gave no aid 
or direction to, during the period of the Bourbon restoration, 



604 LOUIS NAPOLEON. 

was all the time receiving an irresistible impulse from the 
inward tendencies of things ; and, in 1830, Charles X., who 
neither understood France nor the age he was living in, fled 
from a throne he had never been worthy of. 

Something was conceded to the new principle in 1830, by tho 
elevation of Louis Phillipe, the representative of the youngei 
branch of the Bourbons. This elevation to the throne was 
another step of progress. It was a compromise between the 
past and the future, which lasted eighteen years. But things 
at last reached such a crisis that the French nation became 
persuaded that no Bourbon whatever — be he of the elder or 
of the cadet branch, could any longer rule France, and the 
consequences can be read in the Revolution of the 27th of 
February, 1848, when Louis Phillipe had become almost, 
if not quite as odious to the French people as Charles X. 
himself in 1830— not to say Louis XYI. in 1789. 

We do not know what the effect of a great monarchial al- 
liance against Louis Napoleon — an alliance of Sovereigns, 
Pope, Jesuits, Cardinals and Priests, Princes, Despots and 
tyrants of all grades, might be, particularly since the events 
of the last few years have converted Russia, Austria, and 
Prussia, into military despotisms. But if Napoleon himself 
found it impossible by military power alone to resist the 
progress of public opinion, we may find therein a reason 
why military combinations of tyrannical sovereigns will find 
themselves far too weak to cope with the terrible opposition 
of enlightened men. So then, we return to the idea that, 
France being pre-eminently above all European nations, a 
country of social progress, the Napoleon dynasty is the only 
possible compromise between Bourbonism, which has ceased, 
we think, to exist forever in that country, and the American 
type of well-balanced Democratic liberty, which exists only 
on our own side of the ocean. 



HIS POLITICAL PROSPECTS. 605 

Therefore, we see nothing mysterious in the ascendent of 
Louis Napoleon's star. It has risen calmly and steadily into 
the heavens — as wonderful, perhaps, if regarded simply as a 
civil event as Napoleon's elevation was, regarded as the fruit 
of political revolutions and military achievements ; nor do we 
see any reason why the rule of Louis Napoleon is not likely 
to be even more permanent than his uncle's. There is a 
conviction (whether it be clearly expressed or not,) that his 
ascendency and government constitute an inevitable interval 
in the political history and progress of France. The affini- 
ties between him and the great mass of the people are so 
indissoluble — so natural — and withal, understanding as he 
seems to, so much better than any other man, the actual 
tendencies, tastes, feelings, and sympathies of the French 
People, his downfall can hereafter be anticipated, only 
from causes which would bring about the downfall of any 
other man. We know, therefore, of no reason why the 
dominion of Louis Napoleon should not continue. 

It will be said that some of his political acts — particularly 
his Coup d^Etat — the shooting of one or two thousand men 
in the streets of Paris, and the charge of his Chasseurs de 
Vincennes upon the naked breasts of the people — his cramp- 
ing the liberty of the Press — his arrest of a vast number of 
eminent men — his imprisonment of many of them, and the 
exile of others, with many acts besides that we might enu- 
merate, stamp him with the black seal of a Caligula. With- 
out being disposed to justify such measures, we are only 
contemplating them as facts that have occurred, and we fancy 
it would be by no means a difficult task to show that in what- 
ever he has done that has excited the indignation or courted 
the criticism of foreign nations, he has been sustained by a 
very large majority of the French People themselves. 

It does very well for Englishmen who rarely or never 



606 LOUIS NAPOLEON. ^ 

find anything in France, except the gauzes and silks of 
Lyons, or the laces of Valenciennes, or the porcelain of 
Sevres, or the grizetts of Paris, to their liking, to pour out 
their hottest indignation and their bitterest satire upon the 
man they call a Usurper, and it seems natural enough that 
American Democrats who have even made advances from 
the principles of Jefferson, should discover abundant mate 
rial for fault-finding in what Louis Napoleon has done. 

But if we would be philosophical as writers, or just as 
men, we must place ourselves on the same point of observa- 
tion with the man we criticise, and examine for a moment a 
few circumstances, which, so far as our knowledge of other 
men's opinions has gone, have been almost if not entirely 
overlooked. 

The political incompetency of all the great men in France, 
who have attempted to guide public events, or administer 
government or justice, since the Kevolution of the 27 th 
February, has already become a proverb. The very men 
whose agitations at the time of the prohibited Banquets, 
and for many years before, had contributed to foment the 
Bevolution that exiled Louis Phillipe, had as fair a chance 
as men ever had, to display their capacity for governing a 
country ; and Lamartine himself, one of the purest, noblest 
and most gifted of writers, and of men, turned out so utterly 
incompetent to the great task of controlling the unchained 
passions of the million, that nothing but repeated harangues, 
from his eloquent and persuasive tongue, to the mob of 
Paris, day by day and hour by hour, kept the city from 
being whelmed in an ocean of blood. Socialist dreamers in 
the Provisional Government were allowed to proclaim to 
the mob the adoption by the government of the Utopian 
schemes of the Socialists. It was only with the hope of a 
consolidated government, on the part of one class of the 



INCOMPETENCY OF FRENCH STATESMEN. 607 

community, and the dream of Agrarianism on the other, 
that Lamartine's government lasted a few weeks. And 
finally, had it not been for Cavaignac's accession to powei, 
and had he not held in his hand the sword of the army, with 
the prestige of military achievements, the mob of Paris never 
tvould have been awed into subjection to authority and law. 
And when the election of a President for four years came 
on, and every man in France was allowed to give his vote, 
and thereby declare his preference for a ruler of the State, 
who was the man whom nine-tenths of the people clamored 
for ? It was Louis Napoleon : And although perhaps not 
one in one thousand of the men who voted for him, stopped 
to reason, debate, or reflect, yet it is perfectly evident to the 
philosophical observer, that every vote so cast, was but an 
involuntary expression of a sentiment which seemed to have 
been an intuitive and instinctive one, among the French, 
from which we gather, that France, in its transition state, 
could not discover, nor did she desire anything else than the 
Napoleon Dynasty, as a compromise between Bourbonism, 
or the past, and Republicanism, or the future. 

Everybody out of France, except a few men who under- 
stood the actual state of things, prophesied that the National 
Assembly would interpose barriers to what were called the 
usurpations of Louis Napoleon ; but when it was found that 
the Assembly itself, controlled by the outward pressure of 
the people, and guided by the natural instincts of French- 
men, interposed few or no checks to the " usurpations" of 
the President, then it was supposed in England and in 
America, that, as a matter of course, infernal machines oi* 
daggers would soon put an end to the life of this trifler with 
the fate of France, and the peace of Europe. 

Again, when all these prophecies failed, foreign nations 
seemed to repose all their hopes on the election of Mav. 



608 LOUIS NAPOLEON. 

1852, wlien a new President by the Constitution was to be 
chosen, and when, of course, Louis Napoleon would be suc- 
ceeded by the Prince de Joinville, Cavaignac, Thiers, or 
some other illustrious man. Everybody out of France seems 
to have been deluded by this chimera. Agitators in Eng- 
land even uttered warnings against the French Prince, in 
the British House of Commons. The Chartists, Repealers, 
and Reformers, rang many changes on the same expectancy. 
The Italian revolutionists secretly nurtured this hope in 
their hearts, and the Roman republicans were everywhere 
writing to their friends among foreign nations, that they 
were only waiting for a general rising, until the month of 
May. Our own confederation, with its thirty republics, 
then listening to the magical eloquence of the Hungarian 
Patriot, saw but a single Mecca for all his hopes of revolu- 
tien ; and it was generally understood, and he himself uui- 
versally conveyed the idea, that at the period of the new 
election in France, the tocsin of a European revolution 
would be sounded, and those enchained countries once more 
be liberated from the thraldom of their tyrants. 

But suddenly, unexpectedly, almost tranquilly, on the 2d 
of December, 1851, fell the Coup d' Etat of Louis Napoleon 
like a bolt from Heaven. It stunned the world — it paralyzed 
opposition and ended the struggle. In a single hour, by 
one bold stroke from the hand of a man who knew where 
he stood, and who he was dealing with, the tocsin of revolu 
J;ion ceased to sound, socialism hung its head, and the world 
began to wake up from the dream of Agrarianism. 

Such is Lou-is Napoleon. It were all vain to say that such 
a man is either destitute of great qualities for government,'' 
or a knowledge of the spirit of the nation over which he 
presides. 



609 

XLIII. 

This work was written nearly eight years ago. It has under- 
gone no alteration since. The last two paragraphs were added 
to the proof sheets as they came from the press ; for a steamer 
had arrived announcing the now memorable coup d'etat. 

Many years have passed by since, and this volume, which has 
gone unaltered through many editions, now requires some addi- 
tions to render it as complete as when it first came from the 
writer's pen. We shall supply the connecting links of History. 



XLIV. 



The coup d^etat of the night of the 2d of December had saved 
France from a second Reign of Terror. Like other great acts, 
done in great crises, it alarmed the timid, who wanted no change 
—it provoked the satire of those who could not comprehend it, 
the sneer of the wise, who could see no wisdom in it, the oppo- 
sition of the ambitious, who saw their hopes extinguished, and it 
inflamed the curiosity of Europe. » 

But it did three other things. First: — It told the great 
masses of the French Empire that a new day of resurrection for 
the people was dawning, for the strong hand of a parvenue con- 
trolled the helm. Second: — It announced that the reign of 
Agi-arianism was at an end, and that order was established in 
France. Third : — It told Europe, in tones that reverberated to 
the most distant corner of the continent, that the right of Revo- 
lution is sacred ; that a people may rise in their might and cast 
off the foul incubus of hereditary despotism and choose their own 
rulers. 

It, in a word, established and vindicated the vital point in the 
whole system of modern civic life — that rulers must be demo- 
cratic — a principle which Louis Napoleon has adhered to closer 



610 LOUIS NAPOLEOI?'. 

than any other Dictator ; at last, crossing the Alps to assert it 
on the plains of Italy, where he contended for the independence 
of a brave and a glorious Nation. 

XLV. 

Napoleon was at once accused of perjury, of usurpation, of 
murder, of assassination — of every crime. Those who knew 
least of France — of the volcano she had been sleeping on, of the 
misery she had been saved from — those who knew least of Napo- 
leon himself — and, above all, those despots and minions of power 
who had done the darkest deeds in modern history, were the very 
men who have since stooped the lowest to court the favor of this 
vindicator of outraged and stifled liberty. 

But all the criticism of foreign nations had little or nothing to 
do with the case. Let us see what France did with Napoleon, 
after the coup detat. 

The Prince President of the Republic had indeed done a bold 
act. So did Cesar in crossing the Rubicon ; so did Cromwell in 
dissolving the Long Parliament ; so did Washington in crossing 
the Delaware ; and so has every generous and brave man been com- 
pelled to do bold things when exigencies arose, and great and 
good things had to be done. 

And yet by this means Cesar saved Rome— Cromwell En- 
gland — and Washington America. So too did Louis Napolepn 
save France. 

xLvr. 

Just one week after the couj) d'etat^ Napoleon appealed to the 
people of France, and called on them by universal suffrage to 
declare whom they would have to rule over them for the next ten 
years. Eight million votes were cast, of which seven and a half 



THE NEW CONSTITUTION. 611 

were given to Louis Napoleon. This election took place witliin 
twenty days of the conp detat^ and at a period when "tL.! 
usurper" was sufferiijg under the deepest odium which that act or 
his enemies could inflame against him. In no nation did any act 
of a public man ever meet with a higher or more earnest sanc- 
tion. Napoleon was elected hy acdamalion. All France was 
with him, and all France has been with him ever since. 

His first act was to proclaim the new constitution. It was 
announced on the 16th of the next month, [Jan., 1852.] Its 
cardinal principle, plainly avowed, embraced the whole philos- 
ophy of Democracy : — The direct responsibility of the 
CHIEF OF the Government to the Sovereign People op 
France. 

XLVII. 

The proclamation announcing the constitution declares : — 

"Being responsible, his actions must be free, and without 
hindrance. Hence arises the obligation of his having ministers 
who may be the honored and powerful auxiliaries of his thoughts, 
but who no longer form a responsible council composed of jointly 
responsible members, a daily obstacle to the special influence < f 
the Chief of the State — a council, the expression of a policy ema- 
nating from the Chambers, and for that very reason exposed to 
frequent changes, which render impossible a continuous policy, 
or the application of a regular system. 

• ' The present constitution has only settled that which it was 
impossible to leave uncertain. It has not shut up within insur- 
mountable barriers the destinies of a great people. For change, ' 
it has left a margin sufficiently large to allow, in great crises, 
other means of safety than the calamitous expedient of revolution. 

" The Senate can, in concert with the Government, modify all 
that is not fundamental in the constitution ; but as to any modi- 



612 LOUIS NAPOLEON. 

fications of the fundamental bases sanctioned by your sufirages, 
they can only become definitive after having received your rati- 
fication. 

" Thus the people remain master of their destiny. Nothing 
fundamental is effected without their will. 

" Such are the ideas, such are the principles, which you have 
authorized me to apply. May this constitution give to our coun- 
try calm and prosperous days ! May it prevent the return of 
those intestine struggles in which victory, however legitimate, is 
always dearly bought ! May the sanction which you have given 
to my efibrts be blessed by Heaven ! Then peace will be assured 
— my ardent hopes will be fulfilled — my mission will be accom- 
plished. NAPOLEON." 

XLVIII. 

This was the chart laid down by the chief of the State, and 
Napoleon has followed it with the integrity of a truly great man, 
and the skill and certainty of a bold but experienced navigator. 

This constitution, thus announced, was received with gratitude 
and hearty approbation by the people of France. Every muni- 
cipality, every city, every department, every village and hamlet 
gave to it their cordial adhesion. 

A general desire was then expressed to have the Chief visit 
the provinces. He complied with the popular wish, and he was 
everywhere greeted with tokens of confidence, afiection, and 
enthusiasm. 

Napoleon had restored order and security to France ; he now 
began to carry out his imperial system of progress and develop- 
ment for the Empire and its resources. During a life of exile 
and travel he had seen and studied the institutions and govern- 
ments of nearly all civilized States. During his long imprison- 
ment in the gloomy castle of Ham, he had elaborated a system 



napoleon's political system. 613 

of Imperial Democratic Government for France, with her Home 
and Foreign Policy, and a more complete system of the art of 
war than had ever been comprehended or displayed by the great- 
est captains. Finding himself at last at the head of France, 
with the power to act with freedom, and sustained by the confi- 
dence and sympathy of the Nation, he inaugurated the policy 
which he had so maturely elaborated. 



XLIX. 



Among all his writings, voluminous and varied as they had 
been, we find the key to his whole system in three brief passages 
of his " Yiews of the English Revolution." In that sagacious 
and illuminated work he says : — 

"The history of England calls loudly tomonarchs, Makch at 

THE HEAD OF THE IDEAS OF YOUR AGE, AND THEN THESE IDEAS 
WILL FOLLOW AND SUPPORT YOU. If YOU MARCH BEHIND THEM, 
THEY WILL DRAG YOU ON. AnD IF YOU MARCH AGAINST THEM, 
THEY WILL CERTAINLY PROVE YOUR DOWNFALL." 

Free and unfettered now, Napoleon began to work for France. 
Her great public works, which had been arrested by the late Rev- 
olution, were instantly resumed, and along all the arteries of 
industry and commerce the fresh current of electric enterprise 
began to flow. The physical condition of the working classes was 
considered, and a large proportion of the confiscated estates of 
the Orleans family was appropriated directly to this humane pur- 
pose. Harbors and rivers were improved, and France felt the 
thrill of progress in every department of social life, — labor grew 
strong at its toil — and every home in the Empire was brightened 
by a new feeling of security. 

At last, when the Nation became convinced that the Napoleon 
Empire should be restored, to give perfect and lasting security 
to the people. Napoleon again appealed to the Nation, and asked 



614 LOUIS XAPOLEON. 

all Frenchmen to go to the ballot box and say '' Yes " or " No'^ 
on the question. 



L. 



On the 25th November the members of the Legislative Body 
came up from their several departments, and Napoleon conferred 
with them to hear the result of the election. Nearly nine mil- 
lion voters declared for the restoration of the Empire — there was 
no opposition. In addressing the Legislature, Napoleon said : — 

"I have recalled you from your departments that you may be 
associated with the great act which is about to be accomplished. 
Although the Senate and the people alone had the right to 
modify the constitution, I wished that a political body which had 
issued, like myself, from universal suffrage, should come to attest 
to the world the spontaneousness of the National movement 
which bears me to the Empire. I desire expressly that it should 
be you who, in certifying the liberty of the vote and the numeri- 
cal amount of the suffrage, should prove by your declarations the 
complete la^yfulness of my power. To declare, in fact, to-day, 
that authority rests on incontestable right, is to give it the neces- 
sary force for founding something durable, and to insure the pros- 
perity of the country. 

"The Government, as you know, will only change its form. 
Devoted to the great interests which intelligence brings forth, 
and which peace develops, it will restrain itself, as it has hith-' 
erto done, within the limits of moderation ; for success never 
swells with pride the hearts of those who see in their elevation 
a greater duty imposed by the people, and a more elevated mis- 
sion imposed by Providence." 

Louis Napoleon thus became, by the deliberate vote of all 
France, Emperor of the restored Empire — and from this re-inau- 
guration of the Napoleon Dynasty, France had a chief under the 
title of Napoleon III., Emperor of the French Republic. 



HIS MARRIAGE WITH EUGENIE. 615 

LI. 

Having thus consolidated the Democratic Empire of France, 
with security for Government and Society; and France herself 
having once more entered upon the path of development and 
peaceful progress in all that enriches, adorns, or embellishes life, 
the Emperor began to think of his home and his family. 

He had no home. Being an elected Sovereign ; — chosen by the 
universal voice of his fellow-countrymen to stand at the head of 
his nation — to protect her from her intestine enemies, and her 
foreign foes — to develop her resources at home, and extend her 
commerce abroad : — at this moment of respite from the cares of 
State, the first he had seen for years of anxiety — he above all 
other men could lay a fair claim to think for a while of himself, 
and in the battle of life for an Empire, give a little while to 
what every man of feeling and heroism finds sooner or later 
pressed to his bosom — thoughts of a wife, a home, a child ! 

Created an Emperor- by one of the most powerful of Empires, 
he had no inclination to merge the grandeur of his Democratic 
origin in the slough of a worn-out and efiete Bourbon race. 

LII. 

Like himself, as he has always been, he again went to the 
people. He chose for his wife one of the noblest maidens of 
Spain, and one of the most gifted and beautiful beings in the 
world, — Eugenie, Mdlle. de Montijo, the Countess de Teba. The 
marriage was celebrated at the Tuilleries January 29. On the fol- 
lowing day (Sunday,) the religious ceremony was performed with 
imperial pomp, taste, and splendor at the cathedtal Notre Dame. 
Even in the days of the first Empire, no nobler assemblage ever 
gathered in Paris. Graced by the fascinating charms of the 
beautiful Eugenie, that venerable edifice, around whose walls the 



616 LOUIS NAPOLEON. 

streams of empire have drifted for a thousand years, seemed to 
reveal a new and more genial light flashing up into its dusky 
arches. The past, with all its classic and touching souvenirs^ 
came back freighted with the glory, the chivalry, the love, the 
devotion of the Middle Ages. The bridegroom and the bride — 
both in the full possession of Imperial power, and both freshly 
sprung from the bosom of the people ! — such a spectacle may 
well have thrilled the palpitating thousands in that vast cathedral 
with intense emotion — melted the young Empress of the Napo- 
leon Dynasty to tears — illuminated all Paris that night, and 
beckoned old Italy to an approaching Resurrection. 

LIII. 

The nuptials had already been announced by the Emperor to 
the Senate on the 22d of January, [1853.] 

"She who has been the object of my preference is of princely 
descent. French in heart, by education, and the recollection of 
the blood shed by her father in the cause of the Empire,- she has, 
as a Spaniard, the advantage of not having in France a family 
to whom it might be necessary to give honors and fortune. En- 
dowed with all the qualities of the mind, she will be the orna- 
ment of the throne. In the day of danger she would be one of 
its courageous supporters. A Catholic,' she will address to 
Heaven the same prayers with me for the happiness of France. 
In fine, by her grace and her goodness, she will^ I fondly hope, 
endeavor to revive in the same position the virtues of the Empress 
Josephine. 

*'I come then, gentlemen, to announce that I have preferred 
the woman whom I love, and whom I respect, to one who is un- 
known, and whose alliance would have had advantages mingled 
with sacrifices. "Without despising any one, I yet yield to my 
inclinations, after having taken counsel with my reason and my 



EUGENIE. 617 

convictions. In fine, by placing independence, the qualities of 
the heart, domestic happiness, above dynastic prejudices and the 
calculations of ambition, I shall not be less strong, because I 
shall be more free. 

■'Proceeding immediately to Notre Dame, I shall present the 
Empress to the people and the army. The confidence they have 
ill me assures me of their sympathy ; and you, gentlemen, on 
better knowing her whom I have chosen, will agree that on this 
occasion, as on some others, I have been inspired by Providence." 



LIV. 



Such a spectacle had never been witnessed before in the whole 
track of ages. It became after our own Iliad of sufiering and 
heroism — the noblest assertion of the great Democratic principle 
which must yet command the respect of all tyrants ; — for Lib- 
erty means that Nations may choose their own rulers ; and it is 
to demonstrate this principle that Napoleon has fought those glo- 
rious battles on the blushing fields of Lombardy, where he has 
shown himself a greater general than any of the victors of past 
ages on the same fields. 

LV. 

Eugenie was born a lady, and she could never be any thing 
else. But all Empresses are not ladies. There are as many, 
and in proportion, more vulgar people on thrones, than in the se- 
cludevi vales of hfe. 

From the day of that Democratic coronation. Napoleon III. 
has seen no necessity for asking some old Pope to put a crown on 
his head — he has needed no holy oil made by a poor chemist to 
anoint his brow. He has let all this flummery of dead folks go 
by the board, with the rotten old empires that have drifted away, 



618 LOUIS NAPOLEO^r. 

or soon will, on that great river which, in giving outlet to the 
pent-up passions and aspirations of the earth's uncounted chil- 
dren for six thousand years, is to spring in one Niagara leap that 
will give freedom to all mankind. 

LVI. 

Napoleon had to arrest and hold, or send out of Trainee, 
hordes of disturbers and redrepublican fools and villains, and 
he did it. The world said some hard things about it ; and En- 
gland struck the key-note of denuuciation. We will not stop this 
episode, to tell England any one of her million crimes, but we 
announce a principle that is clear : — the surgeon must be the 
judge of the quantity of blood the scalpel must let ; and Napo- 
leon was the surgeon of France, and France was sick. 

LVII. 

France got well. He was a good surgeon. France has not 
only got well, but she has got so well, that from the exuberance 
of her life and the unwasting fountain of her heroism, her victo- 
rious legions have swept the Austrians from the blushing plains 
of Northern Italy. And the day has long gone by when even 
an English Ministry can oppose the policy of the Emperor, 
without giving their places to better men. 

LVIII. 

And then back to France came, by a generous amnesty, many 
of the former disturbers of the peace of their country. They 
had learned a wholesome lesson, not to interfere with the pros- 
perity of forty millions of their fellow-countrymen. 

Some of those people have since tried to kill Napoleon by 
Infernal Machines of one sort or another ; but be seems to feel, 



THE BATTLES OF THE CRIMEA. 619 

like all other great men while doing great deeds, that God is in 
Heaven, and that His worker on the earth can better afford to die 
than God can afford to let him. 

LIX. 

Only a year before, France was at the mercy of anarchy ; and 
whoever has read history knows that anarchy blots out civiliza- 
tion. Nothing worth having can be had without order ^ for '' or- 
der is Heaven's first law." France has confidence in to-day, 
and faith in the future. 

LX. 

Such was France, when once more the clarion of battle sounded 
from Windsor castle, and heard the answering peal from the other 
side of the Channel. It was responded to by a strange, unfore- 
seen, but well considered alliance^ by which poor old Turkey 
was to be saved from the merciless tramp of the Russian. 

In these brief records we can not trace the history of Napoleon 
III. to the present time. We must leave out the war of the 
Crimea — the battle-fields of Balaklava and Inkerman — the storm- 
ing and the capture of the Malakoff, which made Sebastepol fall. 
We must almost overlook the visit of Eugenie to Victoria — and 
Victoria to Eugenie — and Victoria is a name cherished by all 
men who speak the English language. She visited Eugenie, the 
warm-hearted woman, and the gifted Empress, and all the splen- 
dors of France were invoked to pay a genial tribute to the noble 
woman who crowns the pyramidal structure of the British empire. 

LXI. 

f We must even leave out all the kind and generous things 
Eugenie has done to the poor, the neglected and forgotten suffer- 



620 LOUIS NAPOLEON. 

mg of France. We can tell nothing of the womanly deeds she 
has done. Any lady born to an empire can not help being an 
Empress — but to be born a woman and a lady^ and then grace 
an empire and illuminate millions of homes, is a fortune few are 
born to. Just in proportion as these excellent qualities are pos- 
sessed by woman, so do the homes of earth become bright and 
beautiful, and men brave and true. 

LXII. 

Eugenie has been the good angel of the hero of Solferino as 
Josephine was of the hero of Marengo. Amidst the storms of 
empire, which even unsteadied the nerves of Napoleon, (which 
seem to be made of steel,) and afterwards, when he had every 
temptation to hurl back on the thrones of Europe the insults 
which her despots had given him — when he felt that in taking 
the reins of government in France he was going into a cage of 
hyenas, ^ — when all Europe was an ocean waiting in blackness and 
silence for the storm that was to lash it into fury— at this moment 
Eugenie shot across the path of his ambition — and love said, 
"Peace, be still!" 

The Peace of Europe has been disturbed by France only once 
■ — for A^'hen England wished to make war on Russia, Napoleon 
joined her only to say th t Russia must keep her hand off from 
" the Grolden Horn." But when France did undertake a war to 
show an old and rotten Empire that she must^take her polluted 
hands from the fair form of Italy, and move her now broken bat- 
talions beyond the Tyrol, then came the fields of Palestro, Monte- 
bello. Magenta, and Solferino. Such, in brief words, is Napo- 
leon III. — and such, in too few words, is the beautiful Euorenie. 



POLITICAL STATE OF EUROPE. 621 



FRi^NCE, ENGLAND, AND ITALY. 



The peace of Yillafranca suddenly ended the war in Italy. 
The world was more astounded by the peace, than it had been 
electrified by the battle of Solferino. That battle was a victory ; 
and the brave but misguided Emperor of Austria found himself 
the night after the conflict, at the head of an army of a quarter 
of a million of men who had been paralyzed by defeat in every 
engagement. 

II. 

One fact will flash conviction where a thousand theories can 
get no hearing. When the night shadows fell over the field of 
Solferino, and Francis Joseph knew that he had lost this Water- 
loo, that young monarch found Italy lost ; and had Napoleon 
pressed his victorious legions in their march, the Hapsburgh 
Empire might have been dismembered in the midst of a general 
European war. 

III. 

But such was not the object of this great crusade. Napoleon 
knew, and had often said, that Europe never could have either 
peace, progress, or liberty while the Austrian ruled beyond the 
Tyrol : and by the peace of Villafranca he put an end to that 
dominion. It was regarded by the world as another of those 
strange and inexplicable freaks or tricks of the French Era- 



C22 LOUIS NAPOLEON. 

peror, which were designed to accomplish merely some aims of I 
paivate ambition. But in this, as in all other instances, Napo- 
leon held to his immoveable maxim — silence is greater than 
speech. 

rv. 

The question is now asked, what has Italy gained by this war ? 
Napoleon promised to leave " Italy free from the Alps to the 
Adriatic.'' This implied only this — that the scepter of Austria 
in Italy should be broken. And this has been done. 

What does the past tell us ? — Italy had successively been pil- 
laged and oppressed by England, Spain, France and Austria. 
None of them ever came down the Alps, nor crossed the Po, nor 
landed on her coasts, without unfurling the flag of liberty : but after 
their conquests they always left her in chains. Even Napoleon I., 
her own child ^ who knew her history and hated her tyrants,— 
who was greeted on the fields of Montenotte, and Marengo, and 
Lodi as her deliverer^— ^\\q might have made her glad and free 
• — even he swept away the thrones of her tyrants only to make 
places for those of his own family. He carried her sons away to 
fight strangers in distant lands ; they followed his eagles to Spain 
to die in the passes of the Pyrenees, or to freeze on the ice- 
plains of Russia. 

Italy poured her gold into his cofiers as freely as if it had been 
water. She stripped her galleries and churcbes and cabinets of 
the works of her great masters, and she enriched her sacrifice by 
the blood of more than one hundred thousand of her brave men. 
Eut all this could not buy her ransom. 



And thus for a thousand years the sovereigns of Europe had 
been feeding on the dead eagle of Rome. With the re-inaugura- 



POLITICAL STATE OF EUROPE. 623 

tion of the Napoleon Dynasty, under Napoleon III., a new era 
began. He led his invincible army into Italy with the avowed 
purpose of adding no new territory to France, but only to put an 
end to the despotism of Austria in that peninsula, and by thus 
asserting the great democratic doctrine of the right of nations to 
govern themselves, to give progress to liberty, and repose to 
Europe. 

VI. 

He fully redeemed his pledge; and at the end of fifty days 
the victor offered peace to Austria. The future will show 
the wisdom of his policy, the moderation of his ambition, his in- 
stinctive love of democracy, and the high character of his mission 
— to vindicate, in the midst of the reeling fabrics of despotism in 
the Old World, what America fought for seven years to gain in 
the New — the right of the People to rule themselves. 

VII. 

In the beginning England and the whole world denounced 
Napoleon as a despot, now the same England complains that he 
has not done more for Italy. So it was in the time of our Revo- 
lution of 17T6. Then France came to our aid, and La Fayette 
and Count Rochambeau, on the land and the sea, nerved our 
arms to strike one more blow at the heart of our spoiler. France 
has always felt the electric touches of the genius of progress and 
liberty as it moved through the ages. There is now in fact little 
progi-ess in Europe, as we understand progress in America, ex- 
cept in France and Russia. 

VIII. 

England and Prussia have indeed been left out of all calcula- 
tions in beginning the war, in making the peace. They feel 



624 LOUIS NAPOLEON. 

wounded ; and what is more, thej are. Prussia was too late to 
help Austria, and just early enough to lose her and France in 
one stroke. England was just Austrian enough to lose Austria 
and Italy, a,nd just insulting enough to irritate France. Russia 
had been humbled in the Crimea for Moscow. Austria, which 
had lost Russia by not joining her in the Crimea in return for 
saving her empire from dismemberment in 1849, had gained 
the friendship of France without regaining the friendship of 
Russia. 

And thus the drama of empire goes on, shifting its scenes as 
events sweep by, dampening the hopes of some, and inspiring the 
hopes of others. 

But all the while we see Fra,nce in peace or battle, by land or 
sea, in diplomacy, in agriculture, in progress, leaving all the 
nations of the Old World behind her. 




EUGENIE. 



TIIL THE DEATH OF NAPOLEON HI. 



Yeaks have gone by, crowded with strange events — and 
again we continue this history. Napoleon III. died in Camden 
House, Chiselhurst, Kent, England, January 9th, 1873. This 
Book, which is not his history only, but that of his Family and 
Dynasty, needs but a few chapters to close the record. 

II- 

We left N"apoleon after he had made his word good that 
Italy should be free from the Alps to the Adriatic. The world 
has since looked upon the great spectacle of Italy redeemed, 
and becoming for the third time " Queen of the world." She 
was so as Eome — Imperial, Christian Eome — first the Caesars, 
then the Pontifis. She became so again, when her sculptors, 
artists, explorers and statesmen gave back a half lost civiliza- 
tion to the human race. 

Since the peace of Villa-Franca, Italy has been rapidly, and 
we hope surely, consolidating herself, with all her elements of 
life and strength, into a grand commonwealth ; a Union much 
after the old Eoman, and the modern American idea — a com- 
bination of States and Communities, homogeneous in their 
origin, differing in their local interests, long antagonistic, and 
in protracted and fatal strife ; but forever of the same opinion; 
until now she takes her seat at the counsel -board of tlie na- 
tions which are marching into a better future — and she not 
the least proud or beautiful 



STAPOLLOlN III. 
III. 

The best men in the world haye been sorry that the Chief 
of the Catholic Church should have thought it necessary to 
oppose the unification and independence of the Italian States; 
for it is plain enough that no hierarchy, or theology, can any 
longer stand betweeu the human race, and God and real 
Eeligion. Italy can afford the malediction of a feeble old priest 
as long as she has the shining battalions of an army of free- 
men on her soil, and the smile of heayen aboye her. 

It was not in yain that Cayour, Italy's greatest statesman 
since Machiayelli, made that yisit to Plombieres, where the 
unity and independence of Italy were agreed on between him 
and Napoleon. ISTor can it hardly be alleged hereafter, — while 
the French Emperor did some or many bad things, that he 
broke his word to that greatest and most beautiful of all the 
old lands, blushing with fruit of soil, and fruit of genius. 
'Not need an American historian forget how much this Conti- 
nent owes to Columbus and Vespucius in discovery, nor to 
Justinian in Law, nor to that innumerable army of the chiefs 
of human thought, who transmitted the torch of light and 
civilization down through the ages. 

IV. 

But we must come to later and more pressing events. France 
was prosperous and splendid, and Italy was redeemed; but 
Malalvoff had yet to fall, Maximilian had yet to die, the Amer- 
ican Eebellion was still to occur, and Napoleon himself had yet 
to surrender at Sedan, and Prussia had to place herself at the 
head of the most complete military organization Europe had 
seen. France was to pay the dreadful penalty of gratifying 
lier lust for military glory. And yet, in the midst of her 
humiliation we find that, whatever might be the indemnity 
her conqueror should call for, she was rich enough to pay it 
from resources of her own without asking help. She is ever^ 



PEOSPEKITY OF FKAI^CE Ui^DEE Is^APOLEON. 627 

now proving that at her own will she can fonnd a Eepnblic in 
an honr, which she has maintained thus far. 

ISTot often has history had to record such a series of bewilder- 
ing changes as the last few years have offered. What prophet 
of them would have found listening, least of all patient ears ? 
Who would have believed any part of these events ? And yet 
Eugenie's Chapel for the present, holds the ashes of the last of 
the exiled Bonapartes that carried on the dynasty — a Hapsburg 
vault holds the ashes of Maximilian— a mad-house holds 
something worse than the ashes of poor Carlotta, and heaven 
knows what sepulchre may be waiting for the ashas of the latest 
French Bepublic. 

V. 

It appears from the reports of the Department of Com- 
merce of France, that her domestic industries and commerce, 
her agriculture, products, &c., had more than doubled under 
the administration of Napoleon. His reign was only about as 
long as that of Louis Philippe ; but a "close comparison of the 
two will show how much more material prosperity was pro- 
moted from the fall of Louis Philippe to the battle of Sedan, 
than France or any other nation could show, during a like 
period. 

Perhaps it may be said, we are attaching too much import- 
ance to the inaterial prosperity of the French people. But the 
proofs of it which they have recently given, are understood by 
the statesmen and the bankers of the world; and however 
much obloquy has been cast upon Louis Napoleon, he may ap- 
pear in a better light as tlie fects come out. The Bourbons 
had impoverished their country ; but, to our sight, the man 
who carried that slab on his shoulder over the draw-bridge of 
the castle of Ham on his way to the redemption of France, is 
a far more interestiug spectacle than the ascension to the 
throne of France of any Bourbon that ever sat there. 



Gm NAPOLEOl?^ III. 

But brilliant and beautiful as France had become under the 
administration of Napoleon, rich and prosperous as she was in 
all respects, the shadows were beginning to fall upon the land- 
scape. Paris had become in a higher sense than she was ever 
before, the metropolis of Science, Art, Pleasure, and Beauty ; 
and the world was at her feet. Travelers, students, and culti- 
vators of science, explorers, pleasure seekers, princes, kings, 
emperors — the whole mob of them ; the inventors of the earth, 
the Aspasias of all the nations, were in that city to worship at 
a common shrine. 

VI. 

The l^apoleons have blessed and cursed France, as France 
has blessed and cursed them; and, perhaps, they are there- 
fore even. Mountains always have corresponding depressions. 
Especially are these features clearly defined in volcanic regions. 
The same rule holds good in mind. There are men and women, 
and races, and dynasties, that could be properly placed in the 
volcanic strata of life, if the classifications in the intellectual 
and moral world were as clear and satisfactory as they are in 
physics. But it seems harder fco define human character or 
government than to weigh the inner ring of Saturn. 

The Bonaparte family belongs to volcanic races — the Napo- 
leon dynasty to volcanic empires — the French people to vol- 
canic nations. Neither the Kichelieiis nor the Talleyrands 
understood France half as well as the Bonapartes. 

These Napoleon men came out of the seven times heated 
furnace of trial, suffering, folly, and experience, and they 
emerged to scatter fire through the nations. The Bourbons 
issued from palaces to scatter tinsel, profligacy and lust. Victor 
Hugo would have been a Napoleonist, if his worse than woman's 
vanity had not been wounded by foolish slight or oversight, 
perhaps wisdom of Louis Napoleon. But this matters little, 
since the man he insulted sleeps so well on a foreign soil, and 



ALLIAInCE BETWEEJ^ EIs^GLAKD and PFtAXCE. G29 

the man that insulted him drivels and drales. Victor Hugo, 
the satirist of Napoleon '' the little," — this Napoleon's ashes, like 
those of the other Napoleon, will yet sleep under the dome of 
the Invalides. 

VII. 

That the possession of Constantinople would give to Eussia 
the control of Europe, had from the reign of Catherine passed 
into the accepted maxims of European statesmanship. Hardly 
less amiable, and certainly quite as great, as the English Eliza- 
hetli, the Eussian icoman had put up a sign-board at the South- 
eastern gate of the empire : " To Constantinople." The men 
of Europe took her at her word ; and in every attempt of 
Eussia to push her dominion over the borders of the Ottoman, 
has awakened the vigilance of Europe. At last England and 
France made a plain treaty, of which so few have ever been 
made. England ridiculed Louis Napoleon until he became 
emperor ; then she saw how well her great statesman Palmerston 
had understood Louis Napoleon, when he was an exile — only a 
Prince, a Pretender to the succession of the dynasty. A firm 
alliance was struck between England and France, and the 
animosities of ages were buried in the Free Trade Treaty, and 
also a Treaty for Empire. This was the work of those two 
great men, Palmerston and Napoleon. 

In coming to a good understanding, they agreed that Eussia 
should not take the capital of the " sick man," and Eussia 
wanted it. That sign-board had never been taken down. 

We have no room to write a history of the w^ar in the Crimea, 
except in a paragraph. 

The fall of Malakoff, achieved by French chivalry, and not 
by English valor, did not sound so gratefully upon American 
ears, as upon English, French, Sardinian and Turkish. We 
had mingled reasons of love and regret, that Eussia should 
have 'been unwise, or sliould havd suffered ; bufe no American 



630 kapoleo^n' in. 

wished to see England extend her empire any farther through 
the Mediterranean, nor did we wish to see France making the 
Mediterranean a French lake. But the war in the Crimea be- 
came inevitable, ending with little glory to any body. It post- 
poned the death of the sick man, and his sick empire, and 
perpetuated the disgraceful spectacle of the eleyation of the 
Crescent of Mahomet aboye the Cross of Jesus, 

The prestige of the army of the rising kingdom of Sardinia 
enabled Victor Emanuel to unite Italy, and reign over it to 
this hour. 

YIII. 

In the inyasion of Mexico the declaration was made to the 
world that to land a military force, and advance upon the 
Mexican capital, was entirely out of their contemplation ; their 
intention was only to send a combined nayal force into the Gulf 
of Mexico. 

The plan agreed upon for the satisfaction of the contested 
or acknowledged claims was " that the allied powers will seques- 
trate the custom revenues of the ports in question.'^ 

The entire Xorth American l^ational Squadron of England 
had been placed at the service of this expedition. France and 
Spain had made special appropriations for this same work — am- 
ple naval and military power to crush out Mexico. But it seems 
as though Mexico was not to be crushed out, for when the pur- 
poses of Napoleon were understood, both of these alhed powers 
to that treaty withdrew their forces. 

The date of the treaty between England, France, and Spain, 
was October 31st, 1861. 

IX. 

During these doubtful times, and while the complicated 
movements of these allied enemies of Mexico were proceeding, 
there was one man at Washingt^oa, fi*om whose gtatesman'g 



WHO WILL BE XAPOLEOX lY ? 631 

vigilance nothing escaped. Mr. Seward blocked the whole 
game, and all the parties to the disgi'aceful alliance retired in 
disgust, except France, who left with the mnrder of Maximilian 
and 30,000 of her dead soldiers at her back. 

Louis Xapoleon's son was born March 16th, 1856. 

By a decree of the Senate dated Noyember the 7th, 1852, 
"The Imperial dignity is hereditary in the main legitimate 
lines of the present Emperor, in the order of primogeniture." 

Napoleon III. also reserved the right, in case he should leave 
no male children, to nominate his successor from the family of 
Napoleon I., and he accordingly nominated Jerome, King of 
Westphalia, from his marriage with Catherine, Princess of 
Wurtemburgh. 

But it so happens that the same authority which made Louis 
!N"aj)oleon Emperor, decided that the marriage between Jerome 
Napoleon Bonaparte with Miss Patterson, was legal in the 
Court of Pinal Appeals in France, and the Pope of Eome had 
refused to annul the marriage between Napoleon's brother at 
Baltimore, for he was of lawful age, and had a right to marry 
whom he pleased; and as the nuptials were consummated 
by Archbishop Carroll of Baltimore, the Pope never went 
behind the marriage. Therefore it may be the destiny of 
Colonel Bonaparte, formerly of the American Army, to be the 
next Emperor of France. 



The urgent, intelligent, and firm representations of our Gov- 
ernment at Washington against the further attempt of France 
to repress and oppress the independence and nationality of 
Mexico, jSnally prevailed. The last hostile foot which was on 
the soil of Mexico, left. 



632 ' NAPOLEOIT III. 

XI. 

The pressure of the world, and the determined attitude of the 
American Government, had compelled the evacuation of Mexico 
by the French forces. The month of December, 1866, witnessed 
the inevitable fall of that sham empire, and the humiliating 
retreat of the French army. 

By order of Marshal Bazaine, in January following, the 
French transports appeared at Vera Cruz to embark the French 
army of invasion and insult. 

Poor Maximilian was left alone before the month of March 
set in, at the head of his native, faithful, but small force of 
Austrian auxiliaries. 

On the 15th of May, 1867, the Liberal redeeming and aveng- 
ing army of Mexico at Queretaro captured the late emperor 
and his force. 

When the court martial's sentence for the execution of 
Maximilian was to take effect, on the 13th of June, an Amer- 
ican lady, the wife of Prince Salm-Salm, interceded with 
Juarez in behalf of the arcliduke. Frederick Hall of Califor- 
nia, as counsel for Maximilian, also importuned the Mexican 
President for the life of his distinguished client. 

But Juarez, the legitimate President of the Mexican republic, 
gave this answer : '' He must await the considerations of jus- 
tice ; and the necessity of securing peace to the nation is not 
consistent with such an act of clemency.*' 

In the month of June the unhappy archduke of Hapsburg 
was shot by a platoon of soldiers. The body of Maximilian 
was given np to the Consul General of Austria to be embalmed, 
and when that was done, it was delivered to Admiral Tegethoff, 
to be conveyed to Europe, where it remained at the disposal of 
the Emperor Francis Josepli. Thus ended this farce of an at- 
tempt of any European dynasty, or any European power, to dic- 
tate a foreign despotism this side of the Atlantic. 



THE VICTIMS OF M. THIEES. 6.33 

XII. 

Charlemagne attempted to secure the civilization of Europe 
on a solid basis. He did his best for the future of the nations. 
That the nations failed to understand him was their fault, 
not his. 

But neither France nor the other nations understood how 
great a man heaven had sent among them — and so they lost 
many of his lessons of vf isdom ; and many of the troubles of 
Europe since that time, have been the results of this mis- 
understanding, as the greatest troubles of our Eepublic have 
arisen from a misapprehension of the lessons of "Washington 
and the founders of our Republic. Let these lessons be learned 
now. 

XIII. 

It may not seem the most appropriate place for its introduc- 
tion, but we utter a few words here on the atrocities of M. 
Thiers's treatment of the defenders of Paris — the Communists. 
However much we may abhor some of their acts, we abhor still 
more the barbarous and inhuman shooting of — and by machin- 
ery at that — so many victims of arbitrary power. Above all 
should M. Thiers have showed some clemency to the men who 
dragged down the IS'apoleon column. And to invoke machinery 
for the gigantic immolation ! Our great Eebellion witnessed 
not a single execution. ISTo communist died by the fiat of M. 
Thiers, without sowing the seed of the martyrs' church of 
the future. The communists of France who held that beauti- 
ful capital so long, were the early, we hope the last martyrs of 
that faith whose chief corner-stone is Uood, 

Thus it is that, with all his erudition and research, he has 
been only the historian of better men's deeds in the past, with- 
out displaying any high qualities of statesmanship in his own 
administration. 

Let better lessons be learned hereafter. The working macliin- 
ery of liberty in Europe is getting ready— it will come in good 



634 NAP0LE02T III. 

time. Even Napoleon I. was no longer master of France's 
position, when he ceased to comprehend it. Napoleon III. 
was still less master of his position, when he stood in the way 
of the inevitable. Emperors, presidents, and conquerors must 
do right hereafter, or give place to men who will. The future 
is not to be trifled with as cruelly as the past has been. Man- 
kind musfc have justice. 

It is nov/ the province of authorship to rex3all the past only 
to save its lessons of wisdom, as we greet the future with its 
inspirations of hope. 

xrv. 

The war with Germany had become inevitable. Napoleon 
may be accused of having fomented it, and it is certain that 
the conduct of his foolish embassador, Benedetti, justified this 
belief. But it is equally certain that the moment came when 
France could not be stopped from rushing towards the Rhine. 

Napoleon had to go with the current. It was the hugest 
blunder of the ages. The French army was in no condition 
for such v/ork. Prussia was. Von Moltke, the engineer of 
armies, and Bismarck, the master-thinker of Europe, guided 
the councils of WiJliam, who knew how to take advice; and all 
of them, backed by fifty millions of other Germans, wqtq ready 
for this unfortunate dash of France. 

xy. 

This volcano is too recent to need any description. It taught, 
France a great lesson, from which she will probably learn 
little or nothing ; but she is too brave and gallant a nation to let 
one unfortunate campaign extinguish her courage. Her battle 
scrolls of victory outnumber Germany's for two thousand years. 

Sometime or other this unexpected series of defeats of the 
French armies will be fully explained. It may be said now, 
perhaps, that we see something of it, in a few facts : 

Germany had been long preparing for this struggle, and was 



THE COKFLICT WITH GEB3IANY. 635 

ready. Slie liad, after the" example of America and Italy, 
united her people — ail her people — more than half a hundred 
millions. She had been steadily — with a certainty of rising 
and setting suns — giving to her children the best system of 
common education outside of Scotland, Switzerland, and New 
England. She had also made a ''West Point" out of her ter- 
ritory, and every able-bodied man in Germany, from all her 
thrones and princes, down to her peasants, knew what to do in 
a battle. Her men could all write their names at the bottom 
of their pay-rolls. Besides, the Germans had not been cor- 
rupted by a reign of fashionable or imperial frivolity. 

Instead of following les modes of Paris, they made their own. 
There was a certain sturdiness about these Germans in their 
homes, before they left them, and they showed their training, 
when they crossed the Ehine. 

Afterwards we are not surprised to hear what happened. 

XVI. 

France had not brought up the generation that was to do her 
fighting then, as well as the Germans had theirs. Thorough, 
common school education had been neglected. Official reports 
tell us that only forty-eight per cent, of the soldiers of the 
French army could sign their names. A generation of French- 
men had been denied the use of fire-arms at their own dis- 
cretion, and they could not be expected to handle them so well 
on a sudden emergency. Personal government had been carried 
so much further in France than in Germany, that individual- 
ism had been impaired in France — manhood-citizenship had 
been weakened. 

Perhaps some of these things had much to do with the suc- 
cesses of Germany, and the failure of France. 

XVII. 

The destinies of Europe have been affected by St. Petersburg 
and Washington during the late years, that have threatened ua 



636 NAPOLEON III. 

all. Russia, a strong, vigorous, youthful empire — an empire of 
men and women not yet effete from the corruptions of an 
emasculated civilization — felt a natural sympathy with the 
Republic of the New World. It w^as plain enough that Russia 
must take care of herself and of Asia, and that we must take 
care of ourselves and our hemisphere. 

XVIII. 

As soon as Alexander heard of our troubles, he sent to Abra- 
ham Lincoln a letter full of sympathy. Soon after this, his 
fleet dropped anchor in the harbor of New York. It was well 
understood that Europe must let our Republic alone, or fight 
the Russian. The reception given afterwards to Prince Alexia 
showed what we thought of the conduct of Russia. 

XIX. 

Napoleon III. p?ssed into history long before he became the 
Emperor of France. Since then, as before, his business seemed 
to be to make history. 

Historians alone can make it for him now, and it will consist 
in leaving a record that cannot be blotted out of rare gi-eat- 
ness, however much it may be dimmed by acts of his own, or 
the criticism of the future. 

XX. 

Few men carried to their fire-sides richer treasures of genius 
and experience, illuminated by knowledge, than Louis Napo- 
leon ; nor have many men in high or low stations been blessed 
with a more gifted and genial wife. The thousand-mouthed 
scandal of the earth has not yet dared to cast a shadow on the 
fair fame of that woman who gave her love to her husband in 
his earlier climbing, and became the mother of his boy in 
prouder hours, and shed a radiance over his court and empire, 
and folded the myrtle over his tomb at Chiselhurst. 

God bless the noble Eugenie, and God bless France. 



& 



